Sight the King
by olesia.love
Summary: After Yuugi wakes up at the scene of a crime with blood on his hands and a voice in his head, there's only one thing he can do: Run. --Yuugi x Yami Yuugi: Puzzleshipping-- --Complete--
1. in which Yuugi dreams

**_Yu-Gi-Oh!_**, in all its various incarnations, was created by Kazuki Takahashi and is collectively owned/distributed by this aforementioned creator, _Shueisha_, _Toei Animation_, _NAS_, _VIZ Media_, _4KIDS Entertainment, _and numerous others worldwide. The individual hiding behind the pen name _olesia.love_ is not affiliated with any of these individuals or organizations, named or not, and any of the viewpoints expressed within this fan work should not be construed to be in any way endorsed by any of the legal owners of **_Yu-Gi-Oh!_** This fan work does not attempt to infringe heavily upon the rights of these owners.

And who knows - maybe in 2090, someone will wind up writing a ridiculously popular **_Yu-Gi-Oh!_** AU that winds up not only getting published, but also gets turned into a Broadway Musical with a happy romantic ending. It happened with _The Wizard of Oz,_ after all.

Minor Preliminary Notes:

– This story is AU, breaking during the course of manga volume two: Yuugi has not yet met Shaadi, and does not currently know about the "Other Yuugi."  
– The game featured in chapter three is based off the game _Betrayal at House on the Hill_, produced by Avalon Hill.  
– The setting of chapter six is heavily modeled after a game of the same name, currently out-of-print, but pending reproduction with _Valley Games._  
– The game featured in chapter eight is called _Mastermind_; simplified versions of this game can be found online.  
– Chapter 18 can be found in its entirety on Livejournal, if one were to search for this story by title in the "Interest" field.  
– Also, this is slash.

* * *

**Sight the King**  
01/21  
"In Which Yuugi Dreams"

* * *

**_The sky is a dark bowl, the stars die and fall._**

* * *

He held the Pyramid lightly, rocking the weight of it back and forth between his hands. He'd only had it, in this shape, for a month or so; over eight years he'd spent thousands of hours trying to solve the so-called "Millennium Puzzle," an Egyptian artifact dating back several thousands of years. In all those years, this was the first time the Puzzle had ever been fully assembled into this final shape – the "God Pyramid."

Yuugi flipped the Puzzle Pyramid from his left hand to his right, and back again. He was a bit surprised at how snugly all the pieces had wound up fitting to one another – he was sure that the Puzzle would remain whole, even through his constant wearing of the object, so long as no one tried to disassemble it or smash it. Just the thought of his Puzzle in pieces was enough to make him shudder.

Yuugi scooted backwards on his bed, towards the bedroom wall, burrowing further into the covers. Night had fallen long ago, but Yuugi didn't feel tired at all – he'd spent so many nights up working on the Puzzle, his body had long adapted to prolonging fatigue until the latest hours.

Others would call it coincidence, but Yuugi knew that, somehow, the Puzzle had granted his wishes. He even told it so, quietly, so as not to cause his mother or grandfather to worry about him. (He was, after all, more reclusive and much more into games than even his gambler of a grandfather; they'd probably worry that he'd gone crazy if he started talking to a Puzzle, supposedly cursed Egyptian artifact or no.)

"It's amazing," Yuugi whispered to the golden Pyramid, its solitary eye gazing up at him, "that Jounouchi-kun and Anzu seem to be getting along, just because they're both my friends." Yuugi grinned. "Both! Friends! _Mine!_ I'm so grateful – even Honda-kun is nicer to me now. No one would ever believe me," he continued in a low whisper, aware of the hour, "but I know it's thanks to you, so... thank you for everything." Without regard to how silly it might look, Yuugi hugged the Puzzle tightly to his chest, not caring that it dug into his collarbone painfully, or that the ring on top pressed against his leather collar so forcefully that he almost coughed. "Thank you so much..."

Yuugi paused, releasing the Puzzle slowly and gazing into its eye. The room was darker now: the only lights streaming in through the window were the moon and the orange city stars. "But... when I completed you..." Yuugi's brow furrowed in concentration, "people who hurt me were getting hurt back. It's never been that way before. Everyone always got away with it whenever it was me. Are... are you protecting me, too?" The smile he gave was short, and then faltered. "I'm not ungrateful, I'm not!" he assured the Puzzle, "... but I'm scared.

"People are getting hurt, falling into comas, going crazy – there was that one guy who burned alive at that Burger World where Anzu worked..." Yuugi worried his lower lip between his teeth, his voice hitting a chord of fear, "and I keep having these blackouts, and sometimes when I wake up in the morning I'm wearing different clothing and... I'm scared."

Yuugi hugged the Puzzle again, the top ring pressing again against his leather collar – something he'd bought ages ago but had never put on, and it was only recently that he had begun waking up with the choker around his neck and no memory of how it got there. "I'm scared that if I lose you, I'll lose everything else, too, and that if I keep you I'll keep blacking out, or more people will get hurt, and I don't want that either. Please," he whispered, feeling the surprisingly sharp edges of the Puzzle cut into his pajama sleeves but not his skin, "I wish I knew what was going on... I'm scared that I really am going crazy... If I knew... what is in your heart..."

Yuugi closed his eyes, and his grip on the Puzzle tightened. He sat like that for only a moment, or maybe he slept half the night, but suddenly he started at noise at the window. Yuugi jerked at the sound, his eyes darting open, and his attention shooting to his bedroom window. The moon still hung bright in the sky, and the street lamps still burned orange. Yuugi was sure he'd heard something, though, so he threw off the covers to walk to the window.

The city and streets below were quiet and still – no cars, cats, or gang members in sight. Yuugi scrunched his forehead in confusion, and brushed away a lock of bleached-blond fringe from his eyes. Had he just imagined the noise? Frowning, he reached up to close the blinds when another noise startled him.

It was not the sound of a rock rebounding from glass, like he had imagined before, but more a rock tapping against metal. A quiet breath of words brushed against his ears, and instinctively Yuugi clutched the Puzzle. If the Puzzle did protect him, it would do so now, if he were in danger.

The sound was louder now, but he couldn't make any sense of it – it sounded like French, or Arabic, or something he may have heard in an educational video about indigenous tribes of some other continent, but nothing Yuugi could actually identify.

Yuugi was sure he was either dreaming, or crazy, or both, because his first instinct was to aim his response to the Puzzle still hanging from his neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the gold in his hands, "I can't understand you. If it is you."

_I have to be dreaming,_ Yuugi thought to himself; it sounded like the Puzzle was now humming to itself and the sound did not scare him like it probably would have done in daylight hours.

Like in dreams where Yuugi knew he could fly, or what the secret names of playing cards happen to be, Yuugi knew he should not be scared. The humming ceased, but it was not a long silence.

There was a low noise behind him, like cough, or maybe a knock on the door, and Yuugi calmly turned toward the new source of sound. His back to the window, Yuugi gazed at the opposite wall, where his shadow stretched darkly on the already ill-lit wall. Yuugi looked around, but nothing seemed amiss – no one stood in the doorway, or anywhere else in the room. Yuugi frowned, his fingers worrying themselves into the leather cord suspending his Puzzle, when he suddenly noticed something strange.

Yuugi's hands were both in front of his chest, on and near the Millennium Puzzle; the arms of Yuugi's shadow were down at its side, one hanging limp and the other resting on the shadow of Yuugi's hip. Slowly, Yuugi looked over his shoulder, out the window, to see if there were any cleverly shaped trees that could have distorted his shadow so, but nothing cast a shadow through the glass: the shadow was entirely Yuugi's own. He turned his gaze back to the moonlit wall, and his own overpowering shadow.

Yuugi, who remained perfectly still, watched his shadow extend its right hand, the shadow of Yuugi's left, forward and slightly to the side, such that its beckoning gesture was not lost to the dark of its torso.

Calm, Yuugi took three steps towards the wall, his shadow shrinking in proportion to Yuugi's distance, until it was much closer to Yuugi's height instead of taking up the entire wall. Yuugi stilled within arm's reach of the wall, and smiled.

"Um. Hello." Yuugi raised his right hand and gave the shadow a bit of a wave. In response, delayed by several seconds, the shadow raised its own right hand and waved back, acting more like a reflection of a shadow than either of the two separate. Yuugi suddenly was reminded of a story he'd heard as a child – Peter Pan, the orphan boy with the runaway shadow and who could never grow up. Maybe this was his dream? Yuugi liked flying dreams.

The shadow, very slowly, waved again at Yuugi, only this time it seemed like bits of the shadow clung to the wall like ink, leaving a trail of strokes that Yuugi was able to read; he knew that a person wasn't supposed to be able to read in dreams, but it was always possible to think that one was reading.

_Hello_, wrote the shadow.

"I– you–" Yuugi began, but shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, trying to focus. "Are you the one who's been protecting me?"

The shadow, completely independently of Yuugi, nodded. Its cheeks distorted in such a way that Yuugi thought that the shadow might be smiling, though of course it had no mouth he could see.

"Then thank you," said Yuugi, clasping his hands over the Puzzle, "for saving me."

The shadow writing shifted on the wall without intervention, expanding and changing its meaning. _Thank you for saving me_. Yuugi flushed, looking down to the Puzzle. He stepped closer to the wall, scaling down the shadow minutely as he approached. He placed his right hand on the wall, to the right of the shadow's shoulder. The shadow's left hand followed the gesture, but not quickly enough to be mistaken as being the movement of a shadow without willpower. Although his hand pressed against blue paint and drywall, Yuugi could feel the shadow separate from that, an entity all its own.

"You are my shadow?" Yuugi asked, and new words formed from darkness above where their hands touched. _Your shadow_, it read; _I will protect you_.

Yuugi smiled, drowsy, and his hand curled against the wall in an almost-fist, and he closed his eyes in the sway of his sudden fatigue. When he opened them again, he almost saw eyes in his shadow, simple and gold, and almost saw the shadow _cover_ his hand, but it was okay, because Yuugi was dreaming and when strange things happened in dreams it didn't mean a person was crazy, and when Yuugi went to sleep he would wake up in the morning and wouldn't remember his dream and though it was sad at least he'd not have to seriously consider that he spent half the night holding a conversation with his shadow and have his shadow answering back.

For the most part, Yuugi was right – when he woke his dream and the entire day previous day seemed to be a haze, and after that he didn't really think too much about his blackouts or all those people going insane.

But in quiet moments, Yuugi noticed that far more often he would watch for his shadow as he walked, and usually wound up with the sun at his back, his feet falling onto the dark path his shadow laid before him.


	2. in which Jounouchi is a good friend

**Sight the King**  
02/21  
"in which Jounouchi is a good friend"

* * *

**_The celestial bows quiver_**

* * *

Domino City was blinded by yet another brilliantly sunny day, and Yuugi had taken the opportunity to seek out one of his favorite street vendors for some delicious ice cream. His favorite was a specialty of this specific cart – a bewildering combination of chocolate, the thin sweet chocolate of candy and happiness, and the unexpected shock of cayenne pepper. The flavor reminded Yuugi of many games and the hidden strategies within, like a forgotten pawn, or a trap card, or a discarded taser in a rainstorm.

The last analogy made Yuugi slow in his brisk walk, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. The weight of the Puzzle was heavy against his chest, and without much introspection Yuugi shrugged off his worrisome thoughts as being nothing worth concern and continued at his previous joyful pace.

The vendor he was looking for was an elderly woman with a kind expression in an unpleasant face. She wore a tattered pink wig, had three gruesome scars running across one of her wrinkled cheeks, and was named Norie by her long-dead parents; Yuugi called her "Grandmother," and it always made her blush like a bruised tomato.

Yuugi saw his favorite ice cream vendor in her favorite spot, jutting out of the minuscule alleyway between the antique bookstore and the much more profitable liquor store. Grandmother's face was hidden by an old hardback book of Russian poetry. Yuugi laughed as he approached.

"Grandmother!" he exclaimed, jogging the final block to her stand. The elderly woman peered over the cover of her book, and lowered it with a smile as warm and uninviting as the rest of her face.

"Good day, Yuugi-chan," greeted the old woman, her voice no more pleasant than the sound of cracked bells hit too hard in carelessness. Yuugi's grin broadened. "It's been awhile since I've seen you last," said the woman, placing her book atop the cart and opening one of its freezer-top doors. She pulled out a short sugar cone from its depths in her gnarled hands, her skin splotchy by age and genetics. (Yuugi always tried to read the shapes on her hands like tea leaves; today he saw the human eye, which boded well.) "You look very happy. Would you like some 'exactly what it looks like,' 'you've never had this, but good guess,' or 'you'll regret choosing this one, don't say I didn't warn you,' today?"

Yuugi laughed; Grandmother Norie changed the name of the ice cream every day she sold it, but she usually only carried two flavors, and both were chocolate. "You know what I like, Grandmother," he said with a grin as she began digging out the ice cream, and Yuugi added, "and you're right, I am very happy."

As Grandmother Norie scooped the ice cream into its cone with her bare hands so as to better pack and shape the treat, Yuugi told her all about how he was making new friends at school; friends who were strong, and who protected Yuugi from the bullies that were now dwindling from his life. He told her excitedly how it had started around the same time he finally completed the Millennium Puzzle, and he proudly pointed the relic out to her, hanging as it was from his neck. Grandmother Norie had finished building small spikes onto his ice cream – imitating his hair, no doubt – and handed him the confection. Yuugi took the cone, excited for the kick of spice that would assail him from within the calm of the chocolate.

Yuugi bit into two spikes simultaneously, flipping the confection over his tongue as the sweet chocolate melted in the heat of his mouth and slid down his throat. No spice. Yuugi swallowed, pulling the cone away from his lips, staring in mild disappointment.

Grandmother Norie laughed. "Oh, Yuugi-chan, it's only 'exactly what it looks like!' " Yuugi smiled at the joke, and shoving away his disappointment he handed Grandmother Norie the ridiculously few yen she would accept, and continued biting off the spikes of melting deliciousness.

"How have the days treated you lately, Grandmother?"

She smiled, sunlight reflecting dully on her yellow-and-black teeth and vanishing in the depths of her half-filled mouth. "The days have been kinder than the nights," she said, smiling but sad, "as always. Two more of my children have left me—" by children she meant customers, as Grandmother Norie had never married, "—and I fear that you will, too, Yuugi-chan." She smiled again, her wrinkles and scars bunching and stretching her face like the skin of a burnt pudding.

"I'll come back," Yuugi promised, finishing off the last spike and delving finally into the heart of the dessert. Unexpected, the sudden fire burned Yuugi's tongue and eyes, Grandmother Norie's braying laughter grating the air.

"Heh, Grandmother finally pulled a trick on Yuugi-chan, didn't she?" she brayed as normal color finally returned to Yuugi's smiling cheeks. "Yuugi-chan always expects the trick, it's so hard to shock him now. I won!" Her laughter and grin were not beautiful things, and though others would find them distressing and would strive to avoid them, Yuugi relished in them and smiled in response.

"Maybe next time I'll challenge you to Popsicle Chess," he said with a laugh, grinning as Grandmother Norie made her excuses and shooed him away. With a wave and a promise to return soon, Yuugi left the old woman, continuing to lick the spicy cold of the treat.

The sun, still high but sinking rapidly, cast his shadow upon the ever-changing storefronts to which he walked parallel, and Yuugi glanced over at his dark image, curious. Something seemed off about the shadow, even though it followed his movements precisely as shadows do, but Yuugi brushed away the unease almost instantly. It must just be a trick of the light, he assured himself. After all, Yuugi was down to the rim of the cone of his ice cream – how could the shadow of his dessert look as though untouched?

* * *

--

* * *

"Hey, Yuugi, have you heard the big news?"

Jounouchi was sitting on Yuugi's desk during lunch break, which unfortunately meant that Yuugi had no room on his desk to actually spread out and consume his lunch, so Yuugi was only slightly less than thrilled to be receiving the attention.

"No. What is it, Jounouchi-kun?"

Jounouchi, his shock of dirty blond hair in unusual disarray for its cut, leaned toward Yuugi with an air of intensity that made Yuugi recoil minutely from the attention.

"You know Domino's full of homeless and crazies, yeah?"

Yuugi nodded. "Mm. And the crime rate's really high, and sometimes kids get attacked by stray dogs—"

"Yeah, there's that too," said Jounouchi, his attention diverted momentarily by the entrance of Anzu and Honda, the latter carrying a surprising stack of textbooks, "but lately there's been a ton of murders, and most of the bodies are going unclaimed – they're saying a new gang is attacking anyone out past curfew, and you know those homeless and crazies."

Yuugi frowned as Jounouchi slid off his desk; at the moment Yuugi didn't particularly care about his still uneaten lunch.

"Why do you sound like you're warning me? I'm not crazy or homeless. Unless..." pausing, Yuugi added quietly, "is it a gang you know?" They didn't much talk about Jounouchi's past, and Yuugi didn't mean it as an insult, but if Jounouchi knew the gang it would explain why he was bothering to warn Yuugi in the first place – and not Anzu and Honda.

Jounouchi shook his head. "Nah, I don't know who it is either – if I did, I'd tell the cops—"

"Only because you want the reward!" Honda called over, not even looking up from where Anzu was explaining to him their mathematics coursework. Jounouchi half-heartedly made a rude gesture in Honda's direction, but didn't otherwise acknowledge the jab.

"—Anyway, I'm just saying – if it were a bully, I'd just break his face twice, no problem," he said, nonchalant but truthful, "but midnight and dark streets give me the creeps, and it'd be easier for me if you weren't hitting on disaster, okay Yuugi?"

Yuugi smiled, and nodded, digging through his bag to pull out his lunch. "Yeah, I'll be careful." As he leaned back up, the Puzzle clinked softly against his chair. _That's right,_ Yuugi thought, _the Puzzle brought me Jounouchi's friendship; he certainly wouldn't have warned me if we weren't friends._ Grinning to Jounouchi and taking the subject to lighter matters, Yuugi silently promised to not break that trust of friendship by carelessly endangering himself with reckless nighttime wanderings.

* * *

--

* * *

Of course, things didn't work exactly as planned. Grandmother Norie played a really tough game of Popsicle Chess, and had wanted a rematch when her Cherry Shogun had simply surrendered without being threatened once. (The game was actually nothing at all like chess, and the Popsicle sticks had been removed such that the ice could slide across the board more freely.) By the time they actually parted ways, it was falling upon dusk, the last of the sun's gold drawing away as the rusted bronze of street lamps flickered to life.

Yuugi walked as quickly as he could without breaking into a run, cursing the length of the streets from that alleyway to the Turtle Game Shop, his home. The sky was clear of clouds, but the moon had not yet risen, making the landscape much darker than had there been the orange clouds reflecting the city's light pollution. That he was short, had ridiculously attention-grabbing features, and the fact he had a giant block of gold hanging from his slim neck was not boding well for Yuugi's continued safety. Even without Jounouchi's warning about a specific active gang, Domino City was not a safe place to walk the streets after dark.

That the shadows stretching in front of Yuugi had more heads and arms than Yuugi possessed did little to ease his mind.

Hands clapped roughly down on each of Yuugi's shoulders, the sudden force pushing him forward in a stumble until each hand tightened its grip, steadying him. Yuugi tried not to shudder under the depth of the chill he felt from the touch on his arms.

"Hey kid, don't you know it's dangerous to be walking around alone at this time of night?" asked a voice to Yuugi's right; as he turned to confront this assailant, a second voice chimed in from his left.

"There are all kinds of thugs out, preying on loners and crazies. You crazy, kid?" He could tell by the higher pitches of their voices, but it was still a shock when he turned to see that his potential attackers were girls. Very attractive high school girls, at that. Yuugi's face flushed.

The one on his left was the taller of the two, though both had at least half a foot over Yuugi. The girl on the left reached up to tighten her ponytail, and she smiled at him; Yuugi's face was redder than the appropriate side of a completed Rubik's cube.

"That's why we're walking together, since it's safer that way," said the girl on Yuugi's right, her hair in buns and with much sharper features, a gentle smile on her face. (And Yuugi was now a solid red Rubik's cube _on fire._)

"Hey kid, why don't you walk with us for a little while?" asked the girl with the ponytail, "We're walking the same direction anyway,"

"Hey, yeah," said the girl with the buns, "that's a great idea!" and they were both smiling so brightly that the words sprinted out of his mouth before he could even stop to think.

"Sure! I only live a couple blocks from here and companions would be nice!" _Dammit_. Yuugi laughed awkwardly. The girls, still smiling, spun Yuugi back around and each girl stole one of Yuugi's hands to hold in her own. Yuugi wasn't a brick in fire – he was a brick melting in the fire-blood magma in the center of the Earth. His brain was melting – all he could get out was a strangled "bwuh?"

Ponytail, holding his right hand, and Buns on his left, actually giggled.

"Oh," said Ponytail, "I'm Hikari, by the way,"

"And I'm Hebi," continued Buns.

"Oh. I'm Yuugi," He mumbled out, his face still red and his hands both unseemly warm in their cocoons of girl-hand-flesh. Buns – Hebi – giggled.

"That's such a cool name, Yuugi-kun," he nearly tripped over his own feet at the remark, looking up sharply at the gorgeous girl on his left.

"Really, you think so?" he asked, his voice ringing at much higher pitch than usual; ever since he and his mother had moved in with Grandfather at the Game Shop, the kids at school would taunt him for being the game that no one would ever buy, or for being a pervert for playing with games all the time.

"I think so too," said Hikari on his right. "Your necklace is cool too. Where'd you get it?"

Yuugi looked down at the Millennium Puzzle resting on his chest, the orange of the street lamps making the Pyramid look like an angular sun. "This was a gift from my grandfather," he said, pulling his hands out of their grasps to cradle the Puzzle lovingly. "A puzzle, found in Egypt. It took me eight years to solve, and it's full of all my wishes and dreams. It's very precious to me." Yuugi didn't know why he was saying all of this as he continued walking, but he looked up to see that both Hikari and Hebi had stopped where he released them.

"Yuugi-kun, your name means 'game,' right?" asked Hikari, using the English word. He hadn't really noticed before, but both girls seemed to be foreigners – their accent was noticeable, but Yuugi was terrible at recognizing an accent's nation of origin, and their beautiful but generic mildly dark pigment left him no clues. Yuugi gave a short nod, not removing his hands from the God Pyramid, still warm beneath his fingers.

Hebi grinned at him, and he felt his face flush again. "We've had fun walking with you," she called, "but this is where we live." Hebi gestured to a rather run-down apartment building nearby, its front weathered and faded under minimal care. "Do you want to stay the night with us?"

Yuugi's brain fired off a single warning flare before being pitched into chaos and hormones, and the only coherent thought he could muster involved the words "holy," "sandwich," "on a," and a slew of vulgarity that Yuugi would be too embarrassed to say aloud.

But it was dark, and there had been that rash of murders recently, Grandfather and Mom were probably worried sick, and Jounouchi would kill him if Yuugi told him that he had spent the night with two gorgeous girls at their invitation. Hitting on disaster indeed.

The Pyramid's edges and contours were a welcome distraction to focus upon as he tried to be as polite as possible while turning down the offer. "My family will worry if I don't get home soon," Yuugi said, proud with how steady his voice—"but why don't you come to the Game shop tomorrow?" _Dammit!_

Yuugi blanched at the sudden invitation that had spilled from his mouth, and even though they weren't close and the sky's darkness was almost overpowering, Yuugi saw both girls smile.

"Thanks, Yuugi-kun," said Hebi, and Hikari added, "We'd love to! See you later!" With a laugh, the two girls clasped hands and ran across the road, into the lobby entrance of the White Cat apartment building.

Yuugi stared, still flushing red, but he ran a thumb down the sharp edge of the puzzle, and muttered, "Well, that was weird," and walked home without further incident.

* * *

--

* * *

"Yuugi-kun, you idiot!" Anzu shouted, slamming her hands atop his desk. Yuugi flinched back from the blow to the wood, a wide-eyed grimace on his face.

Jounouchi and Honda, too, were around Yuugi's desk the next morning before the first class bell, strewn in chairs in a way that their teachers would certainly disapprove of. Jounouchi glowered. "I tell you to be careful, and you go hooking up with strange women in the middle of the night?"

"They could have been killers," Honda muttered, his voice angry. Yuugi couldn't tell if it was directed to the situation or something else entirely. "Or prostitutes, or vampires—"

"Vampires, Honda-kun?" Anzu asked, confusion plastered on her face so thick Yuugi was afraid it would crack and cake off like— _huh_, Yuugi thought, _my analogies aren't making any sense lately_. The thought wanted to finish 'cake off like a puzzle,' but puzzles didn't cake off of anything, let alone faces.

"Vampires, yeah. You know, seducers of men, drinkers of blood, denizens of hell—"

Anzu cut him off quickly. "I know what vampires are, Honda-kun," Yuugi looked down at his desk, his fingers tracing the eye of the Puzzle while, of all people, Anzu and Honda got into a fight about vampires. "Do you even know what 'denizen' _means_?!"

Yuugi looked away, feeling awful. It seemed like he wouldn't be able to visit Grandmother Norie any time soon – not until the crime spree ended, what with Jounouchi promising to follow him everywhere now. He sighed; he loved his friends, but he wished they wouldn't treat him like he was still a kid. Unless... being over-protective was a part of friendship? Maybe he should take them to meet Grandmother Norie – Jounouchi and Honda would probably go if promised inexpensive ice cream.

"I'm not encouraging prostitution!" Anzu shouted, her fists clenched, and Honda shouted at the same time, "You shouldn't—"

"Guys," Yuugi said loudly, dividing his attention between his friends, "I'm sorry I worried you all, but nothing happened. If you want," he added, "you guys can come visit Grandmother with me today... but only if you promise to be nice!"

"I can't," said Honda with a resigned frown, "Nephew and dogs today, nothing personal."

"I can't either," said Anzu, moving toward her own desk with the approach of the class bell, "my you-know-what. Besides, Grandmother freaks me out and doesn't like me anyway."

Yuugi frowned, but Jounouchi's hand fell upon Yuugi's shoulder, and that hand's owner grinned. "Don't worry, Yuugi, I've got your back. I kinda' want to meet this grandmother of yours."

Yuugi tried to correct him, that the woman wasn't _actually_ his grandmother, but their teacher's arrival halted the words from leaving his mouth. The class easily fell into their customary introductions, Yuugi's lackluster at best, and through the morning history lesson Yuugi tried solving a Rubik's cube in his mind to pass the time, though he kept losing the yellow side.

* * *

--

* * *

The day did go by quickly after that, and Honda got to make up for not being able to join them later by beating up one of the upperclassmen that had decided Yuugi looked like an easy target for a petty mugging. Eventually classes ended, and Yuugi and Jounouchi made their way through the shopping district and passed the crowded liquor store as one of Grandmother's customers began choking on his ice cream. The man, Caucasian with shockingly bright natural red hair, dropped both the cone and bottle of vodka in shock.

"Christ, lady!" shouted the tourist, his appearance Irish but accent wholly American; probability said he was likely from the Pacific coast.

"Oh dear," replied Grandmother, "I did warn you not to choose that one." The tourist shouted something threatening in English and grabbed Grandmother's cart as if to knock the whole thing down.

"Leave Grandmother alone!" Yuugi shouted; his fists were clenched, but not in threat. "She's just trying to sell something she loves, it's not her fault you didn't like it!"

The tourist, his eyes blazing, turned his gaze towards Yuugi and Jounouchi. "You trying to start something, kid?" growled the tourist, glaring at Yuugi though his hands remained firm on the vendor cart. Yuugi swallowed his fear when he saw Grandmother staring at him, her face a familiar tomato red. Yuugi always stood up for Grandmother Norie, even though he knew she never wanted him to do something so reckless for her; it was how they met, though they were both years younger and in the end the twelve-year-old Yuugi had a black eye, a swollen lip, and free ice cream for the rest of his life.

This time things were different: Yuugi wasn't alone.

"Who do you think you are," Jounouchi yelled back, standing between the tourist and Yuugi in a distinctly protective manner, rolling up his cuffs as he approached the American, "You're picking on old ladies and kids half your size; does that make you tough? Pah! You're not a man unless you fight me!"

The tourist glared at Jounouchi, but Yuugi could see the way his eyes flicked between them all. He pushed away from the cart, causing it to wobble, but even Grandmother could stop it from even coming close to tipping over.

"She's disgusting, and so's the ice cream," the tourist spat, his anger unaltered, "and you owe me for the booze!" he exclaimed, backing away from the cart.

"You dropped it on your own," said Grandmother, "after I warned you." He scowled and, with one last glare at Jounouchi, stalked off in the opposite direction.

"What a creep, picking on old ladies and kids," Jounouchi growled, striding forward and grabbing a chunk of broken glass from the sidewalk. He chucked it at the tourist's retreating back, but thankfully didn't actually hit the guy. "Go back to Russia!" he shouted, lobbing another chunk of glass before Yuugi pulled on his uniform jacket.

"Jounouchi-kun, he's gone, you can stop now."

Jounouchi continued glaring, but eventually his tense stature relaxed. "Sorry Yuugi," he said, "it's just that – urg, picking on weaker people like that, he makes me so mad!" Hadn't that been Jounouchi, only a month or so ago? Yuugi smiled.

"Young man, that was very kind of you," said Grandmother to Jounouchi, her face still the red of a bruised tomato, "I can see why Yuugi-chan can hardly stop talking about you."

Jounouchi and Yuugi both turned to her, red with embarrassment, though in markedly different respects; Jounouchi ruffled his hair with both pride and humility, and boasted loudly, "Aww, thanks, but anyone would of done the same," while Yuugi looked flustered and red and quietly pleaded "Grandmother..."

Grandmother Norie grinned, her teeth dark and crooked but her expression still full of joy. "Would you boys like some ice cream? Defenders of street vendors get theirs free." At the prospect of anything free, Jounouchi usually leaped at the opportunity, so at the mention of free _food_ Jounouchi spun so quickly that his arm nearly slapped Yuugi in the face.

_What a cheapskate_, Yuugi thought affectionately, smiling softly as Jounouchi listened with barely contained excitement as Grandmother listed flavors. _He acts like a little kid._

The sun was still high above, but the minor angle cast a half-sized shadow across the pavement and cracked glass. When Yuugi saw his shadow, he shifted forward so his shadow's head wasn't filled with drying liquor, and for a brief moment he thought he saw an odd movement in the shoulders and hair, but there were clouds and it was just a shadow. Yuugi pushed it out of mind and approached the cart as Grandmother began preparing Jounouchi's strawberry cone, perfectly safe, though Jounouchi seemed somewhat perturbed by her methods.

"Ah, shouldn't you be using a spoon, or wearing gloves, or something?" Regardless of his reservations, Jounouchi began gnawing on the dessert as soon as he received it. Grandmother laughed.

"Oh, what harm could my hands do to you here that could not be done while I churned this in the privacy of my home? I wash in hot water between flavors, too, so don't worry." Yuugi grinned, moving to lean on the cart and stare into the freezer, but the escaping cold air blinded him in its bite. He laughed.

"What flavors do you have today, Grandmother?" An arm wrapped around him in a loose headlock, and Yuugi grinned up at Jounouchi.

"Yuugi, this strawberry ice cream is amazing! You have to try it!"

"I would, but my throat will swell up so bad I won't be able to eat for a week!" A bit of ice cream landed on Yuugi's upturned forehead, and he squealed in a completely masculine way at the sudden cold. He quickly wiped off the offending dessert. "Jounouchi-kun, don't eat that standing over me, you'll get it all in my hair!" Jounouchi ruffled Yuugi's hair with his free hand, and Yuugi's face scrunched at the intrusion. Grandmother laughed, deftly tossing a cone from one aged hand to the other.

"Today I have one from the vine, one from the trees, and a sin that fights back." Yuugi smiled, pulling out from under Jounouchi's arm, and asked for the second of the three; it was going to be a very sweet green tea and honey blend, which Yuugi thought tasted better frozen than as a beverage. Grandmother began packing his cone lovingly, and Yuugi's eyes traced the patterns of her skin; again he saw the eye, but today there was a dagger near it, an image that gave him pause.

"So you're not actually Yuugi's grandma, right?" Jounouchi asked, his mouth full of sugar-cone. Grandmother nodded, her ratty pink wig swaying.

"He calls me grandmother because he enjoys making an old woman blush," she said jocosely, a bit of unblended honey trailing behind on her fingers and catching the sunlight, "and because it gets him discounts."

"Grandmother," Yuugi whined at her words and Jounouchi's laugh, "you always lie about me like this." She clicked her tongue, handing Yuugi his sweet-tree cone.

"When you live up to your reputation, little Yuugi-chan, I'll be honest with your friends. As it is, I have more drunks and dreamers to snare, and you're blocking my cart. Shoo!" she said with a fond smile chiseled into her face as if by erosion, waving them away and flicking drops of hot water at them. The two teens laughed and bid her a farewell, joyfully running with their desserts through the city streets as though they were each a decade younger than high school sophomores.

Eventually curfew approached, and though they had long since finished their ice cream, Jounouchi brought up the subject once more.

"So, what's her story, Yuugi?" Jounouchi asked, stretching his arms as they walked, "Selling ice cream to alcoholics seems like a dumb move to me."

Yuugi shrugged, his hands in his pockets. "She says she does it to 'wake up people no longer connected to the world,' but these days... I think she's waiting for someone."

"Waiting for someone?" Yuugi nodded, gazing up at the golden sky. "Who's she waiting for?"

Yuugi shrugged. "I don't know..." he trailed off, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. Grandmother Norie had been acting a bit peculiar lately, to be perfectly honest – her attention kept drifting off to a side street nearby, as if waiting for someone to walk by or something to happen. When Yuugi had followed her gaze, he didn't really see anything out of the ordinary, but just because he saw nothing didn't mean there was nothing to see. They walked on in silence after that, but it was a good silence for sunset. Sunset...

"Jounouchi-kun, it's getting late – I should head home..." the arm that wrapped around Yuugi's shoulders and neck was unexpected, but it was Jounouchi, so not unwelcome (though Yuugi did flush a bit under the inherent affection of the move).

"Yuugi, you idiot," he said, shaking Yuugi a bit before releasing his hold, "I'm not letting you walk home alone again when you're being stalked by crazy foreign women." Yuugi's flush deepened, but—

"I didn't tell you they looked foreign," he said warily, looking up at his friend, but Jounouchi's gaze was focused far off elsewhere.

"I know," he said, nodding in the direction he stared, "but that's them, isn't it?"

Yuugi turned and saw, casting lengthy shadows in the late rays of sunset, two girls with three ponytails between them. Dark skin glowed in the golden light, and from the distance it looked as though they wore matching dresses. The girl with two ponytails, probably having fallen from tied buns, waved.

"Yeah," said Yuugi as the girls approached, "that's them."


	3. in which a game starts

**Sight the King**  
03/21  
"in which a game starts"

* * *

**_the bones of the earthgods shake and planets come to a halt_**

* * *

The girls were too close for Yuugi and Jounouchi to run without causing a scene and looking ridiculous, and since the girls had yet to do anything warranting such, neither Yuugi nor Jounouchi made moves to approach or retreat. Yuugi did notice that Jounouchi had tensed for a fight, though. The girls stopped about five meters away, but they still smiled.

"Hello, Yuugi-kun," said Hebi, her dark hair shining brightly in the dying light,

"Hello, cute-guy-who-is-not-Yuugi-kun," said Hikari with a rumble in her voice Yuugi had not heard the night before and, by the way he stuttered and blushed through his introduction, Jounouchi noticed it as well.

Hebi clapped her hands together and grinned. "Yuugi-kun, how sweet of you to bring a friend! I'm very excited for our sleep-over now!"

Yuugi looked down, embarrassed and kicking at the ground. "Ah, Hebi-san, I don't think—"

"That's a great idea!" Jounouchi announced too loudly, and Yuugi looked up in shock to see Jounouchi was completely red, flustered, and all his fighting tension gone. Hikari and Hebi were both smiling brightly, but now a heavy sense of unease began creeping across Yuugi's skin like the pinpricks of the nervous footsteps of a venomous scorpion.

"Jounouchi-kun..."

"Oh, we should hurry back to our place," said Hebi with a gentle smile, "to avoid the curfew. It will be very fun." She said, and Hikari echoed, "very," the flirtatious rumble still deep in her voice. The two girls turned and walked through the darkness (curfew had, Yuugi could tell, long since passed) and Jounouchi began following without hesitation. Yuugi scowled.

"Jounouchi-kun," he muttered, but his friend kept following the two girls; with a sigh, Yuugi jogged after him. _I guess I have to keep you out of trouble this time_, Yuugi thought, the Puzzle thumping painfully against his torso. He pressed it against his chest as he ran, letting the trapped heat of sunlight warm his fingers with courage.

The two girls – sisters, something Yuugi should have noticed yesterday – didn't live too far from the Game Shop, so Yuugi could probably sneak out and run home if he needed to.

Hikari and Jounouchi stood very close to one another once they entered the apartment lobby, and their shoulders were nearly brushing when they had all gone into the comparatively spacious elevator, and Yuugi couldn't help but stare daggers at the girl. Just because she was an attractive girl didn't mean she had the right to go after his best friend like that. He was seriously thinking of just grabbing Jounouchi's arm and dragging them straight back out of the building when Hebi lightly brushed her hand across his.

"We tried going to the game shop you mentioned," she whispered, a lilt in her voice, her hand brushing across his again in what Yuugi could tell was a _very_ deliberate move; his brain was shutting down under the surprise of it, though he still secretly wondered if Hebi was crazy, considering she was obviously flirting with _Yuugi_, "but the shopkeeper said you'd been and gone."

Yuugi gave a tiny embarrassed laugh, and he could feel the blush all the way down to his neck. He was acting like a bleeding _girl_, turning red at even a glance! "Ah, sorry," he said, looking up at Hebi with sincerity, "I'm not used to people taking my invitations seriously."

Hebi gave a little hum of understanding, and with a smile (did she ever not?) added, "The shopkeeper was very nice, too. When I tried to buy a booster set for _Monsters Kill You Dead_, he gave me a huge discount!" At this, Yuugi laughed with embarrassment for entirely different reasons.

"Yeah, Grandpa likes giving random discounts like that, though it's a bit embarrassing – he forgets that he actually has to charge some people, sometimes!" Yuugi didn't add that his grandfather only gave such discounts to attractive girls and women – he didn't want to embarrass Hebi too! "You play _Monsters Kill You Dead_?"

Yuugi hadn't really noticed, but at some point they had not only gotten off the elevator, but also gone into the girls' apartment, and somehow Yuugi and Hebi had wound up sitting next to one another on the couch, only inches apart. Yuugi's face exploded red at the realization, but Hebi didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, do you play?" she asked, "I can never find anyone who plays _Monsters_. Older sister does, but you need at least three to play a good game." Yuugi nodded.

"I love games," he said with a laugh, "but I've only played _Monsters_ during demonstrations at the shop, so the rules are a bit fuzzy."

Hebi clapped her hands in glee, and leaped off the couch, telling Yuugi to wait while she pulled Hikari and Jounouchi out of the kitchen. In a flurry she was gone, and Yuugi was left alone in the sitting room. When did Jounouchi and Hikari go into the kitchen? He hadn't even been paying attention.

The sitting room was only about half a room larger than the size of Yuugi's bedroom, though it looked much smaller in the amount of clutter. The walls were a chocolate brown, covered in posters of what looked like Bollywood pop stars and newspaper clippings, and a photograph of the two girls and their presumed parents; the photo was really high quality, and their parents were both stunningly attractive, and for some reason Yuugi felt that one of them – their father, he supposed – looked familiar. After a moment he gave up trying to place the man, and continued looking around.

All of the furniture in the room was brown, leather and wood, and the only real color in the room came from the posters, the slew of magazines in stacks against the walls, and the brightly colored clothes messily left in small piles around the room; the clothes not only looked clean, they looked _new_, and Yuugi could still see price tags hanging off of some.

Hebi returned with Hikari and Jounouchi in tow, and didn't _he_ look flustered and out of breath? This was unexpected, but he couldn't really _blame_ Jounouchi – Hikari was freaking gorgeous and _interested_ in Jounouchi, which was surprisingly something he didn't get a lot of from girls at Domino High. Besides, with all of the attention Hebi was giving him, Yuugi was having a hard time focusing on the many 'why I shouldn't be here's, but he still looked over to Hikari and thought, _lucky_.

"So what did you want to play, Hebi-chan?" asked Hikari, her cheeks red but her voice steady.

"Oh! Yuugi-kun wants to play _Monsters Kill You Dead_, and since we've never played a full four-person game, I thought..."

Hikari grinned. "That's a great idea! Let me go find the base game." She disentangled her fingers from Jounouchi's hand and moved back into the room they had just left – apparently the kitchen. Then again, it was the only doorway other than the one out of the apartment, so it probably led to the all the other rooms, too. Hebi gestured Jounouchi to the couch and began clearing off the table. After a moment, Jounouchi plopped down on Yuugi's left, oddly silent. Yuugi nudged Jounouchi's knee with his own, and very slowly Jounouchi reacted and turned.

"What happened?" Yuugi whispered, aware of Hebi in the same room, his concern for his friend growing with how long it took for Jounouchi to react.

"What? Oh. We. Um," he paused for a long moment – long enough for Hikari to reenter the room, ask about the location of the game, Hebi to tell her specifically where it was, Hikari to deny the claim, and for both girls to go off to search before Jounouchi continued; Yuugi doubted Jounouchi's delay was in wait for their departure. "She. Um. We drank. Tea. And she kissed me. And we, ah, we drank more tea." Yuugi stared at his friend in disbelief, and Jounouchi laughed, breaking out of his obviously hormone-induced stupor. "Ah, a bit unexpected, yeah? Considering who they are, and all."

"Yeah, that's what I think," said Yuugi, worried and unsure and suddenly confused, "wait, who—"

"The freezer, seriously?" said Hikari loudly, entering the room with a slightly frost-covered box; Hebi followed behind, carrying a small plastic bag from the Turtle Game Shop.

"I wasn't awake when I did that," she complained, "considering I also put the ice cream in my underwear drawer,"

"And your socks in the curio cabinet," Hikari added with a laugh – a previously unheard sound, and it reminded Yuugi of the chime of breaking glass. Hikari placed the game box on the table, and Hebi sat on the floor beside her, examining the contents of her new booster pack.

"So have either of you played _Monsters Kill You Dead?_" Hikari asked, and Jounouchi shook his head. Yuugi leaned forward and watched Hikari begin setting up the board.

"I don't remember all the rules," he admitted, "but this is the one where the adventure changes each time you play, right?" Hikari nodded.

"Yeah. In this game, we build the game board as we play, exploring new rooms in the House of Leaves. In certain rooms, you have to fight monsters to receive Sigils of the Quest."

"Every time a Sigil is collected," Hebi interjected, "that player has to roll the dice, aiming for a number higher than the total of Sigils held by all the players." She held up a Sigil token, a circular chip with a tower imprinted its face. "Depending on the Sigil and the room, the Quest is determined – sometimes the players fight a common foe, sometimes everyone has to fight against one another, sometimes there's one player betraying the rest."

At the last, Hikari grinned broadly as she handed out the somewhat generic plastic character tokens; Yuugi got a piece that looked liked it could have been either a woodsman or a golf player.

"I love playing the betrayal Quests," said Hikari with a giggle, "since it's that way that you really can judge the way a player works in a team, or by themselves."

At that, Hebi frowned. "You just like ganging up on the unlucky sap stuck as the betrayer," she muttered, but Hikari continued laughing.

"You're just upset that your betrayal failed the last time we played the Electric Spiders Quest." Hebi crossed her arms in a pout, but her cheek twitched with a suppressed smile.

Examining his token, Yuugi asked, "so what does the booster pack do?"

Jounouchi, although he was dancing his token across the edge of the table, was obviously fully engrossed in the explanation of the rules, based on his reaction to Hebi's next words. "The booster packs are new Sigils, new dice, and instructions for new Quests. Sometimes even new rooms for the board. There are so many expansions out now that if you played them all at once, you could have over three hundred possible Sigils, meaning rolling about fifty dice every time someone collected one."

Jounouchi's game piece suddenly skidded off the edge of the table and he very nearly fell on top of Yuugi in shock. "Fifty dice?" he exclaimed, but both girls laughed, and Hikari waved a dismissing hand.

"Since we don't want to be playing _this_ all night," she said, that flirtatious growl underlying her tone once more, instantly attracting Jounouchi's full attention; Yuugi tried looking for a clock somewhere in the room, but found none. "We'll just use seven Sigils, so it'll be a quick first half."

Hebi began plucking a few of the round tokens out of her expansion pack, and Hikari began shuffling the room tiles. "Until the Quest is determined, the rules are very simple," said Hikari, "we take turns exploring the manor, building stats and collecting items and Sigils, and for every new room, we have to examine the Explorer's Symbol, which may indicate monsters to fight or useful items, or ways to alter your base stats, or that you need to draw a Sigil, and sometimes it has more than one. After you draw a random Sigil, you have to make a Sigil roll." Hikari set down the stack of room tiles, and began shuffling the item cards while Hebi took up explaining the battle rules. Yuugi remembered those well enough, and tried in vain to find a clock again; his only clue to the time was the utter black of the night sky outside the window, and the reflection of the moon off the neighboring building.

They rolled to determine the playing order; Yuugi would go third, after Jounouchi and Hikari, and Hebi at the end. Jounouchi and Hikari each uncovered a room, the Kitchen and a Nursery; only Hikari recovered a Sigil, and she easily passed the Sigil roll. Yuugi entered the Study, and wished fervently that the game would end as quickly as possible. Yuugi loved games, but the way Hikari was staring at Jounouchi was worrying him greatly, and the way his friend seemed so distracted by the woman made Yuugi very anxious to leave, but Yuugi hated quitting games. His Explorer's Symbol was a monster and a Sigil.

"In the Study, I encounter the Cursed Toy Monkey," he read from the card, "and I need to roll higher than a two to defeat it." Yuugi tossed the die and got a five, successfully killing the toy and drawing a Sigil token from the bag. Without ceremony he withdrew the Cursed Bell Sigil. Hebi handed him two d-6s.

"Remember, Yuugi-kun, you've got to roll higher than a two, so..." Hebi said encouragingly.

"Don't worry, Hebi-chan," Hikari interjected as Yuugi rolled the dice, watching them skitter in the lid of the box, "it's, what, one in thirty-six that he'll throw—" she paused, staring. "—snake eyes."

Yuugi tried to hide his relief; the earlier the Quest was revealed, the sooner the game would be over and he'd be able to get them out of there. As Yuugi reached to retrieve the dice from the box, he noticed suddenly that his shadow was cast onto the table in such a way that the snake-eyed dice rested where the shadow's eyes would be, if shadows had eyes. _Thanks_, he thought, not letting himself feel silly for it; Hikari beat him to the dice, and Hebi began flipping through the instruction manual.

"Cursed Bell in the Study is Quest fourteen, which is... Banshee Wedding. Yuugi-kun," she said, handing Yuugi a small purple booklet, "as the revealer of this Sigil Quest, you're the villain, and the rest of us work together to defeat you." Hebi looked up from the book, a sympathetic look on her face. "Playing the villain is harder, so you get special allowances in the game. Banshee Wedding's on page sixteen, so you can go read your scenario in the kitchen while we read ours out here."

"We're going to take you down, Yuugi-kun," Hikari said with a feral note of competition, "and when we do we'll all play a _much_ better game."

Yuugi tensed, snatching the booklet. Glaring at Hikari, he said, "but if I win, Jounouchi-kun and I are leaving, and you'll let us go with no hard feelings. And you won't try to contact us again." Hebi frowned at him then, and Jounouchi spluttered.

"Yuugi, what the hell—"

"If that's what you want," Hikari said, grinning too broadly as though sure of her victory. Yuugi's grip on the booklet tightened, the soft paper curling in his fist, and he stalked his way past the posters of pop stars and brown dark walls into the much brighter kitchen. Its walls were painted a horrifying Day-Glo orange, and they were plastered with photographs of flowers, and kittens, and flowers on kittens. The kitchen itself was tiny – all Yuugi could see was a couple cupboards, the counter, and the fridge: no oven or stove whatsoever. He approached the fridge for something to lean against as there were no tables or chairs, but seeing that the top of the fridge was where they – rather unsafely – kept their block of kitchen knives, Yuugi opted instead for sitting on the counter near the sink. He began flipping through the Traitor's Handbook for the proper entry.

_The Banshee Wedding,_ read the header, and so Yuugi began the story.

_You didn't want to come to this house in the first place, did you?_ Yuugi smiled, agreeing already with the premise. _You just wanted to read the evening paper in peace and let the whole matter drop, but no, your silly cousin(s) wanted to explore the cursed mansion of your great-grandfather Broken Stones. They, of course, are off searching for the wine cellar and the untold riches (and alcohol) held within, but you're by yourself, wallowing in your misery in the study. Suddenly you hear the resounding thud of a fallen book behind you, but when you examine the area you find that it's not a book at all. It's a bell. Your eyes and hands are drawn to the cracked metal, and with a loving caress you bring the bell to your lips and kiss the unsightly crack in the metal._

Yuugi frowned. _Well, jeez, this is getting ridiculous and creepy,_ he thought. He read on:

_Fainter than a whisper, you hear and feel the mist pouring out of the bell, and when it takes shape you are struck by the beauty of the woman, her wedding dress almost reaching out to you. She smiles at you, and laughs, and you are lost..._

The text broke there, then continued a few lines down with his Rules of Treachery: once he got back to the board he would have to place the Banshee token into play, and on each of his turns he would move the Banshee two rooms to the nearest player for every player on the board (other than Yuugi, so six spaces). If the Banshee ended its movement in the same room as another player, that player was exposed to her "deadly scream." If the same player heard the scream on two consecutive turns – or three non-consecutive turns – then that player was killed and was removed from active play. Damage could not be dealt to the Banshee, but certain item tokens (the White Candle, the Golden Knife, and the Music Box – none of which were possessed by the other players) would repel her. Yuugi's character's job was to get to the Chapel with at least one other player dead, and summon the Banshee using the Cursed Bell. Once married in the Chapel, the Banshee's scream would instantly kill all other surviving players in the house. If Yuugi's character died, he lost. If the other players got all three of the aforementioned item tokens into the Chapel, Yuugi lost. Also, if three different times any of players intentionally inflicted harm upon themselves to save one of their teammates from the Banshee's call – a sacrifice, of sorts – then the Banshee would instantly die, and Yuugi would lose.

Yuugi read through the rules once more, smiling. Obviously the other team knew about the 'items to the Chapel' method of winning, but the sacrifice one – the easiest way to win - was probably an unknown solution to them. Since this Quest was from the expansion, he knew neither Hikari nor Hebi (who'd obviously played this game before) knew of this 'secret victory,' so his chances for winning were even better. _It seems almost too easy_, thought Yuugi, but a knock on the doorframe distracted him from his ponderings.

"We're ready whenever you are," said Hikari, almost purring in threat, "so get ready to lose to a couple of girls."

Yuugi smiled, closing the booklet. "We'll see," he said. Hikari grinned back, and he followed her back into the overpoweringly brown sitting room.

* * *

--

* * *

Hebi, on the couch, looked up at Yuugi with a sly grin and light sparkling in her eyes as he entered, the Banshee token resting between her fingers like a cigarette. Jounouchi was dancing the dice along the table, now that his token was on the board, but he did give Yuugi a short glance when he reentered the room before turning his attention back to the dice. The indifference of the action made Yuugi's heart clench painfully in his chest. Was their friendship so weak that a couple of pretty girls could drive a wedge between them? His free hand went up to the Puzzle for reassurance. The Millennium Puzzle had granted him friends; they would not fall away so easily. He smiled.

Yuugi sat down at the table, placing the Banshee token with him in the study. "As I end my turn in the study, I gain a stat point of knowledge. Your turn, Hebi-san." She nodded, moving her player through two of the explored rooms, revealing the staircase leading upstairs, and continued up to the Research Laboratory. Hebi quickly dispatched her foe – a mysterious fog – and acquired the Cursed Spear.

Their turns went quickly after that, Jounouchi and Hikari both retreating upstairs and exploring rooms there. Yuugi could easily see their plan: lead the Banshee away from Yuugi, and then send their strongest player to kill him directly. Evidently they didn't know that he could summon the Banshee to his side using the Cursed Bell. Interesting. _Way too easy for the Traitor to win_, Yuugi thought, _they must think that teamwork is enough to overcome such a ridiculous handicap._ The other team wasn't even finding that great a selection of items, either. The only thing remotely useful they'd gotten in the round of play was Chekhov's Revolver for Hikari, and Jounouchi found a Fire Axe. Yuugi's turn.

"The Banshee has now fully materialized, and she gets two points of movement for every non-traitor on the board, so six rooms. She moves at the start of my turn to the nearest player, and if she winds up in the same room as that player—"

"Yes, Yuugi-kun, we know that," said Hebi, her fingers absently playing with the dice on the table. Yuugi stuttered under her gaze, but quickly shook himself back into composure.

"So you know how many hits will kill you, and—"

"Yes, Yuugi-kun, we do." Hikari said, though her gaze was fixed on Jounouchi. Yuugi shrugged.

"All right. Since the Banshee is a spirit, she can go through any wall, and can move from floor to floor without using the stairs, so I'm going to move her one space here—" Yuugi pointed to an adjacent room, "which is directly below the Master Bedroom, which is two spaces away from Hikari-san in the Gymnasium—" He placed the round token next to Hikari's character piece with a joyous smile, "where the Banshee screams, and ends her movement."

Yuugi had his character continue exploring the downstairs, where he fought spider webs in the Greenhouse and acquired the Rabbit's Foot, an item that would let him on one occasion re-roll a single die during any of his rolls. The sisters' turns passed quickly – no one found the Chapel, or any of the repelling items, just weapons and stat-boosters. The Banshee attacked Jounouchi this turn (not a sacrifice; Hikari had a higher speed, and the top floor wasn't large), and Yuugi ran out of movement in an empty hallway. Turns continued for another few rounds without action until finally Jounouchi unearthed the Chapel in the basement (having fallen through a hole in the floor on the second story, for minor amounts of implausibility).

Yuugi quickly calculated. Unless he found the staircase to the cellar in his loop around to the lobby, it'd take him two turns just to get upstairs, another two after _that_ to go to the hole in the floor, and another two after that to get to the Chapel. _Dammit_. And none of the other players were very close to death, but none had made sacrifices either, and they still didn't have the right items. Yuugi was fine in terms of ability to win, but he just wished it wouldn't have to take so long.

Jounouchi, realizing what his uncovering the Chapel meant, swore profusely.

"Don't worry," said Hikari, the apparent leader of their group, "Yuugi-kun has to come upstairs to get there, so we'll cut him off here. You just make sure that he doesn't get through if we can't."

Yuugi smiled, excited. _Finally,_ he thought, _some action!_

Hikari was obviously heading for the main staircase, but Yuugi wasn't worried; they still didn't know that Yuugi could summon the Banshee to his side at any moment. Hikari ended her turn at the top of the staircase. Now it was his turn.

The Banshee attacked Hebi – her first hit in the game. Yuugi looked at the board of tiles carefully; he was still on the rather small first floor, but because of the horseshoe layout of doors and hallways, Yuugi was on the tip of a half-circle of tiles, meaning there was a gap of two unplaced rooms between his bloody hallway and the foyer leading upstairs. If he got lucky, he might hit nothing but hallways and save himself a turn of movement, instead of walking all the way around. If he did get lucky like that, though, it would give Hikari the advantage to attack him, something he didn't really want to risk. Looking down at his item cards, he made a face of discontent: he didn't have very many, and none of them were particularly good, him having spent most of his turns in dusty hallways. The few he did have were either luck-based, or would help him alter stats he didn't really care for. (Sanity? Really?) So, some exploration couldn't hurt.

He placed his hand over the land tile deck and closed his eyes. _I'm so tired,_ he thought to himself and to the cards, _I just want to finish this game and go home. I know you don't get to have fun often;_ he wasn't even the slightest bit embarrassed by the way he spoke to the cards in his mind. _I just want to get my friend out of here. So please..._ holding his breath, Yuugi drew the room tile. There was no Explorer's Symbol, and he started to place the tile down and continue exploring when he noticed something off about the tile he drew.

He didn't draw a room; he drew an _elevator_.

Quickly Yuugi's eyes scanned the directions on the card. He would roll one of the special 3-integer d-6s (numbered zero through two, each number appearing twice); if the die landed on a zero, he would go down a floor, whereas a one would take him up a floor, and a two would let him control which way he went. The elevator could attach to any door that did not connect to an adjacent room. He silently thanked the deck.

"I have revealed the Mystic Elevator, and I shall now roll to determine my destination."

"Wait-a-minute, what?" interjected Hikari, bewilderment and frustration in her tone, "since when has there been an elevator?"

"Since the second expansion, _Zombies Eat My Brains Oh No!_ You've used it before, remember?" Hebi said, frowning, "The time you were the traitor, with the radioactive fairies? You put them all in the elevator and killed everyone in two turns." Hikari looked at Hebi in confusion. "You remember! It was when we were playing against the exchange students who used the dog to shuffle around possession of the bug spray!"

Yuugi let the die fall, and was only slightly disappointed when the face came up one. He moved the elevator up to the top floor, aligning it to the nearest empty door to the Mine Shaft, a full two rooms away. Yuugi had run out of speed though, and ended his turn just outside the elevator. Hebi spent her turn trying to outrun the Banshee, but a failed roll in a previous turn had reduced her speed from seven rooms to five, meaning that she was left well within the range of the Banshee's approach. Jounouchi skipped his turn for lack of anything to do, passing over to Hikari.

Well, here was an interesting situation. Hikari also had a speed of seven, and within her range of possible movement were two viable options: she could use all seven of her blocks of movement to reach Yuugi by the elevator, putting her six spaces away from the Banshee and leaving Hebi at five spaces to get killed (as it would be Hebi's second consecutive hit). If Hebi died, it would give Yuugi the one death he needed to resurrect the Banshee and win the game. The other option Hikari had was to directly approach the Banshee and prevent the monster from killing Hebi, a move that would not kill Hikari, and delay Yuugi's potential victory, but allowing him to escape down the Mine Shaft.

If their positions were reversed, Yuugi would save Hebi; it wouldn't even be fatal, as Hikari's character had only been attacked once by the Banshee and that had been several turns ago, and her high speed would allow her to easily outrun the threat on her next turn. Jounouchi was still by the chapel, after all, and she could trust him to take care of Yuugi, should Yuugi make it down there. It was the smart option, too: Jounouchi's character had maxed out strength and sanity, and he actually had strong weapons.

The choice was obvious.

As Hikari moved her token room by room, Yuugi realized some things about Hikari's personal character: she wanted to win the game and keep both Yuugi and Jounouchi here with her, and was very determined to do so. She did not trust Jounouchi's superior strength; she wanted to be the victor by herself, which was probably why she had intentionally kept both Hebi and Jounouchi far away from Yuugi's character token as possible for the entire game. Hikari was willing to leave her sister to die so she could grab the glory for herself.

Yuugi slid his thumb over the grooves of his God Pyramid, and said, "You know, your attacking me isn't the wisest move, since the Banshee will kill your sister otherwise."

"Whoever said she was my sister?" Hikari asked, placing her character token in the same room as Yuugi's.

Yuugi shrugged. "Your loss." He could summon the Banshee to him now, even though it wasn't his turn, but the attack wouldn't stop Hikari's. Besides, he'd lose the otherwise guaranteed death of Hebi if he did, something he needed to win the game. He left the Cursed Bell where it lay.

Hikari grinned, wide and feral, "I'll attack. My strength is five, which would give me five d-2 dice,"

Yuugi nodded, "My strength is also five—"

"but I play the Ballet Slippers," she interjected, holding up an item card, "meaning I can change my attack from being based on strength to being based on speed. Mine is seven, and yours is still five." She placed down the item card, and tapped one sitting next to it. "I also will attack you with Chekhov's Revolver, which under the modification of the slippers also turns into a speed-based attack, giving me a total of nine speed and nine dice to your five." Hikari looked at Yuugi with the wild-eyed glee Yuugi associated with gamblers and the insane. He had to suppress a shudder. "For every number of damage difference, you lose that many points of speed."

"I know how battles work, Hikari-san," Yuugi said pleasantly, trying to defuse her mania, "I told you I've played before."

They each picked up their respective number of dice, and with closed eyes Yuugi began shaking the bones. _She has an advantage of four dice,_ he thought quietly, listening to the rattle of the dice in his cupped hands, _meaning that if we both roll straight twos on these modified dice, then she'd have a full eight points over me, which would kill me. The most I can possibly roll is ten – even if I roll that high, there's still pretty much a fifty-fifty chance she'll win the fight, and about a one-in-four chance that she'll kill me dead. Ugh._ His hands stilled momentarily before he began shaking in earnest once more. _So, please,_ he asked the dice, _at least give me that chance!_

Yuugi released the dice into the cardboard lid, watching them ricochet off the interior side, thrown against a side on his half of the box so as not to interfere with Hikari's simultaneous roll.

"That's too bad," Hikari said, looking at his throw of seven, "that's nothing compared to my—"

Yuugi's heart stopped in his chest; there was no contest. The game was over.

"It seems like my seven is perfectly competent," he murmured, smiling, "against your five."

Of Hikari's nine dice, her four advantage dice and one of her base stat dice all rolled blank, leaving a single two and three ones. Yuugi's three ones and two twos easily won the fight. He didn't even need to beat her numerically in the battle – he just needed to have lost by less than five – but Yuugi liked the poetic justice of it. Hikari screeched in rage; _she isn't a very good player_, he thought sourly.

"And that ends your turn, right?" said Hebi, staring at the dice. Hikari didn't appreciate the comment.

"But I _shot you_!" she exclaimed in complete shock, "I had a gun! I _SHOT YOU_! You weren't even two feet away!" She stood from the couch, her arms flailing, but thankfully nowhere near the pieces of the board. "It was point-blank range! How could you _dodge a bullet at point-blank range?!_" Her fists clenched, her eyes were dark as she stared at the board, and without another word she hurdled over Jounouchi's legs and stormed out of the room, slamming a door closed behind her as she went. Yuugi winced.

"Don't worry about her," said Hebi with a look of disappointment, lips pursed as if swallowing a bitter medicine, and her eyes lowered in resignation that worse would follow. "She's always been a sore loser. She'll calm down."

Yuugi frowned. "I'm sorry. If I had known—"

"Ah, don't worry about it, Yuugi-kun," she said, smiling at him brightly, her features softening, "besides, it's your turn, so hurry up and play!"

Yuugi gave a very short laugh, and slid the Banshee token towards Hebi's. "Sorry for this," he said as the Banshee attacked her character, "her movement is automatic, and—"

"Yuugi-kun, don't apologize for being a good player. Idiot." She said, removing her token from the game board. Yuugi shrugged, and began his trek across the tiles.

"Ah, Yuugi, wait," said Jounouchi, speaking to Yuugi for the first time since he had set the stakes for the game, "you just beat Hikari-chan in battle, right?" Yuugi nodded, slowly, his hand paused in mid-movement from holding the elevator tile. "That means you get to take one of her items. Here." Jounouchi flicked a card across the table to Yuugi, and he picked up the Ballet Slippers. "They'll get you to the Chapel faster."

Yuugi shook his head. "I don't need them. You deserve the chance to win, too, Jounouchi-kun." Yuugi rolled one of the dice, and it came up as a one. Unhappy, Yuugi used his Rabbit's Foot to re-roll, and this time got a two. He went down to the basement, getting as close to the Chapel as he could, but still stopped a full two rooms away. Hebi, being dead, obviously didn't get a turn, so Jounouchi moved his piece out of the Chapel towards Yuugi.

And past him. Yuugi watched in confusion as Jounouchi entered the elevator, ascended to the first floor, and slyly placed down an item card.

_The Fire Axe: Use this item on any wall to create a doorway into an adjacent room or territory._ Jounouchi grinned.

"I bust through the elevator and leave the House of Leaves, and escaping death-by-Banshee. Only kills the people in the house, right Yuugi?" Yuugi stared at Jounouchi's little character token on the brown table, off the board and out of the game, and Yuugi laughed.

"That's right, only those in the house. Jounouchi-kun! You beat me in a game, that's so cool!" Jounouchi smiled, but shook his head.

"Nah, it's more like a stylish forfeit. Besides, if you summon that Banshee Wedding thing, you still win, since Hikari-chan's still alive, isn't she?"

"I don't think she'd forfeit," said Hebi, and with a glower she turned to the hallway and shouted for her sister. (Were they sisters? They looked like sisters, and Hebi said they were sisters, but Hikari denied it. Maybe it had just been anger?)

"Kari-chan! It's your turn! Stop being such a whiny bitch and finish the game!"

A lot of things happened after the door opened.

Hikari walked into the sitting room slowly, her arms crossed behind her back and her head down, pensive and contrite. Jounouchi started a jaw-popping yawn and stretched his arms, and Hebi leaned back into the couch, relaxing. Yuugi glanced out the window, but the sky was still dark and the moon was gone, so he still had no idea what time it was – a couple hours had to have passed, at least. Hikari approached the game table, shuffling her feet quietly against the carpet as Jounouchi battled his yawn for Round Two.

"Your turn," said Yuugi, looking away from the window.

His brain had all of one second to take in the tears on Hikari's face and the gun in her hands and the red of her cheeks befo—

Gun?

Pain ripped through Yuugi, an explosion of black and fire and dragons and FUCK.

Bang.

Yuugi had fallen, and maybe he skidded, but he knew he was staring at the ceiling, and he could feel his blood pouring out of him and instantly cooling in the stale air.

She actually shot him. With a gun! Why did she even have a gun?

Yuugi had been afraid of what the two girls would do to him and to Jounouchi, and even though murder had been on the list for a while, getting shot for winning a board game had not.

He never even saw it coming. He could feel pain – holy _fuck_ what was that bullet made from? – and vaguely he heard Jounouchi and Hebi shouting, and another gunshot.

His vision starting getting dark, his eyelids closing against it, and he was pretty sure this was a bad sign.

_I'm going to die,_ thought Yuugi at the sound of a third gunshot, his eyes refusing to open again, _this sucks_.

_You will not die here._

His eyes did not open, but they did flutter in the effort of blinking. _I'm not?_

_The bullet only hit muscles, near the shoulder. No organs. _

_Oh._ Well, that was good, wasn't it? He should probably snap out of his shock, then, before he bled to death.

_You will not die here_, that other voice repeated as Yuugi struggled against passing out, but he could tell he was failing miserably.

_The girl will not be as lucky. _


	4. in which Yuugi freaks out

**Sight the King**  
04/21  
"in which Yuugi freaks out"

* * *

**_when they sight the king in all his power_**

* * *

Yuugi awoke in a great deal of pain. He was, oddly, sitting up, his back pressed against the front of the couch, and facing the game board. Hikari was sitting opposite him, her head hung low, as though she had fallen asleep sitting up. Had all that been a dream? He shifted forward, but the pain shooting down his left side disproved that notion rather quickly.

Hikari's hand was resting on the table awkwardly, and it took a moment for Yuugi to realize she was holding one of the kitchen knives. A very _bloody_ kitchen knife. The entire table was covered in blood – the game board tiles had been scattered, and the center of the table was replaced instead with a stack of face-up, blood-soaked item cards, the top of which was the Golden Knife card that would have repelled the Banshee, had they still been playing _Monsters_. Nausea and a sick feeling of dread pooled in Yuugi's stomach; Yuugi looked back up to Hikari, and with his uninjured arm reached across the table and nudged her.

The blood on his fingers stained her forehead, and she toppled over easily, but even in that short second Yuugi saw the dark line of crimson against her neck, and realized that her dress was dark and wet with the blood that must have come flooding out when her throat was slit.

Even though he was able to see all this as she fell, for the first few seconds after her body thudded against the carpet Yuugi only felt the pain from the gunshot, and realized distantly that he had not been sitting when he passed out. Then he was trying not to vomit on the table or game board, forcing himself to look elsewhere, but all he could see were the accusing eyes of the Bollywood idols who had watched... whatever it was that happened while Yuugi was unconscious. Tears and shakes started ravaging Yuugi's body, and he covered his eyes against the sight. Where was Jounouchi? Surely he wouldn't just leave Yuugi here? What happened?

It was just a stupid game!

He sat there, shaking and crying for several minutes before the pain of merely holding up his left arm became too much, and he let his arms drop.

_Yo_.

Yuugi didn't bother looking up from his lap, or speaking aloud; he merely stared at the edge of the table and no further.

_She's dead_, Yuugi realized, his body filling with the numbing ice of shock, his body ceasing to tremor.

_Yes_.

Silence, in the room, and in Yuugi's mind, but it did not last long.

_Her sister, too?_

_... yes._

_Jounouchi-kun?_

There was silence.

It stretched on for several seconds.

They felt like hours, or maybe days.

Yuugi did not know how long he sat there, staring at nothing, seeing nothing, not knowing what to think or even thinking at all as the silence stretched painfully all around him and within him, until

_Oh god—_

_I tried so hard—_

_Jounouchi—_

_The bleeding was too much—_

_He didn't deserve this. Not Jounouchi-kun._

_Yes. He didn't._

Silence. Yuugi, with his stronger arm, picked up the closest, least bloody Item card on the table. _The Fire Axe_. His fingers smeared blood onto the text, and with a shaking exhalation Yuugi held the card.

_... these aren't the first deaths,_ he essentially whispered, even in his own mind, _are they?_

_No._

Yuugi only nodded, his body numb and brain mostly shut down. If he tried thinking, he would have to come to terms with—!

_This is the first time—?_

_That you've seen? Yes._

_Why?_

_I... the bullet, I tried... had I known, I would have waited. I'm sorry. I did not know the danger._

_Neither did I, _thought Yuugi. _Where is he?_

The pause was hesitant; Yuugi could feel it as if he were watching the voice's facial expression, the nervous gnawing of a lip and the gaze turned elsewhere. _Are you sure?_

Yuugi physically nodded, and with closed eyes he gingerly rose from the floor, briefly wondering how much of the blood on the table was his, and how much was Hikari's, and how much... much... and how many prints would the police find, and how many were his? Had he touched the knife? The gun? Yuugi shook his head, absently slipping the card into his pocket, before clasping the slightly padded wound with his right hand.

_Yes, I'm sure. He didn't deserve this, but at least I can... say goodbye._

It was painful to even _think_ such words!

_... on the carpet, behind the couch,_ replied the voice, slowly, _it's not... brutal, at least_.

Yuugi nodded, and slowly he walked around the couch (studiously ignoring Hebi on the couch, pretty Hebi's hair and face matted with blood, bullet in her skull and soaking the brown couch to black with blood). Spread upon the floor behind it lay Jounouchi on his back, his bare chest awash with blood, thick and drying, his discarded shirt matted and bloodstained against the wound. The other voice in Yuugi's head was right – it was not brutal, but the sight of Jounouchi's vacant eyes staring up to the ceiling and the blood on his face shook Yuugi to his very core.

They had not been friends for very long, but it was still Yuugi's best friend laid flat on the ground, never again to skip school, or attack Anzu's uniform with the panty tank, or help Yuugi stand up to bullies. Never again to smile, or laugh, or get into fights, or share with Yuugi the secrets of his life when no one else was around.

"I'm so sorry," Yuugi whispered, crouching down and carefully closing Jounouchi's eyes, suffering the pain of moving his left arm so as not to smear blood on Jounouchi's already stained face.

He wanted so much to break down and cry, and sob, and scream, but the wound in his shoulder was still bleeding steadily, and the sun was peering through the windows.

Yuugi's right hand caressed one side of the Puzzle, smearing blood into the crevices. "You know," he said, his voice thick and wet, "when the shock wears off, I'm going to freak out about there being a voice in my head."

_All right,_ replied the voice, _but the wound seems to be, ah, getting worse. If you let me, I can dull the pain from you._

Yuugi's eyes slid closed in defeat. "All right," he whispered, and for the first time he felt that sense of vertigo, the one that had accompanied his blackouts for weeks, without actually losing consciousness. He felt his senses dull – he could not feel his arm bleeding, or consciously feel his arms, or any of his limbs, and his vision was graying and the previously unnoticed noise of birds outside faded. He did, however, feel his body begin to move, rising from Jounouchi's side, and how weird it was to not be controlling it!

Everything was dull, and gray, and Yuugi felt like he was watching a film shot in the first person rather than actually existing within himself. He barely heard the thundering at the door, and the sight of the two men barreling in wearing indistinct clothes was not frightening.

Not, that is, until Yuugi felt his own lips move, and heard a voice that was his but not his saying "morning, Officers."

Although the vertigo had not knocked him unconscious this time, it was very easy for Yuugi to fall into that oblivion, hoping that things couldn't possibly go more wrong in his slumber.

* * *

--

* * *

The hospital, sterile and quiet, greeted Yuugi next – alone in a clean room, wrapped in bandages and warm blankets. There were no police officers, no doctors, no family members, no _friends_ – just Yuugi, his sewn-up wound, and his Millennium Puzzle. Oh, and the voice within Yuugi's head. Him too.

When the police had shown up to arrest Yuugi on the scene of the crime, the... the _other_ Yuugi must have played up the injury, causing the officers to take Yuugi directly to the hospital. He must have only recently come out from surgery, since his arm was still numb from anesthetic, and he was sure that the police would be taking him into custody as soon as the doctors cleared him for movement.

The Puzzle had been left on the small table near Yuugi's bed, and without hesitation Yuugi had reached for it, thankful that it was on his uninjured side. Once his hand fell upon the Puzzle, still brown in places from blood, he felt more than saw his shadow stretching away from him, as though the wall behind him were a light, until his shadow was stretched across the opposite wall as though standing. Yuugi placed the Puzzle in his lap, gazing across the room at the shadow.

"... hello," he whispered quietly, hoping that no one was hiding in the room.

Dark markings appeared on the paint, large enough for Yuugi to read, as the shadow seemed to trail his hand across the wall. _Hello_, it said.

"You..." _so it wasn't a dream_, realized Yuugi, _none of it_. "You're... the voice in my head, right?" The shadow nodded. "Then... why aren't you there now?"

The markings changed. _It is easier for me to look around when I do not need eyes_. Yuugi opened his mouth to respond, but he wasn't particularly sure what to say. The shadow's head turned towards the door for a moment, but then returned its gaze to Yuugi. If it had a gaze. Hell, it could be facing the wall it was painted upon, Yuugi couldn't tell.

"Are you... the Millennium Puzzle? I mean... the God Pyramid?" Yuugi held up the golden treasure to clarify, and the shadow seemed to shift its weight onto its right side, its hip jutting out sharply on the wall.

_I... do not know. I do not think I am made of gold, and I do not hang from your neck, but... I recall nothing prior to its completion, and I do not know where I go when I am not... out. I am no more the Puzzle than you are your clothes._

"... oh."

Yuugi's hands kept absently rubbing at the blood on the Pyramid, but his efforts were not to remove the stains. He would not wash it, not clean it, not when—

"I don't want him to be dead," Yuugi whispered, feeling his grief clogging his throat and burning in his eyes, "he—"

_Yes_, wrote the shadow, _I know._

_Do you?_ Yuugi thought, angered. _How could some... some voice or some shadow from a necklace possibly—?_

He felt it.

As though he stood on a beach, Yuugi felt the waters of emotion lap up against his ankles, and the spray was bitter with sorrow. The waters retreated, but came back stronger to his knees, and there was confusion. To his hips, soaking him through to the bones, the marrow, with anguish. The water wasn't retreating: it was rising, or it was pulling Yuugi forward without his consent. The waves were threatening to knock him over, now, crashing and breaking across his chest in anger, anguish, betrayal, regret, blame, and sorrow. Yuugi choked as he began sinking in the undertow, clawing for the sky as overwhelming him were the feelings of hate, and grief, and love, and sorrow, sorrow, sorrow.

Guilt! Cried the water pounding against Yuugi's ears and eyes. Guilt! Screamed the blood in his veins as the water surged through him, and though the water was murky and dark he could clearly see Jounouchi's bloodstained face, the blood in the water, and maybe he was drowning in blood, but it didn't matter because he was full, full of guilt and shame and blame and fault and oh _god_ Jounouchi was dead-dead-dead.

The water was gone. Yuugi suddenly stood again on the beach at dusk, the wind cold and painful against his soaked skin. He breathed the cold air and felt the wind strip him and overwhelming all that, there, was the truth.

Loss.

Yuugi screamed, his hands clenching around his head, the cold of the beach replaced by the cool of the hospital room, but he couldn't _breathe_, it hurt it _hurt_ and he couldn't stop shaking, trying to expel the ocean water from his lungs and eyes, his torso heaving under the effort.

Saltwater rivers ran from oceans and Yuugi curled up on himself around the Puzzle, sobbing and aching for the friend he stupidly got _killed_.

Time passed, and later, when it hurt too much to sob or even move, Yuugi tightened around the Pyramid, eyes half-closed but puffy and red.

Trying to distract himself from the hollow ache, Yuugi looked to see his shadow, sitting and curled against the wall.

"Was that... was that your grief I nearly drowned in, or mine?"

The words flickered on the wall, shifting too fast for Yuugi to settle his eyes on one: _Yours-Mine-Ours_. The words stilled. _They... flooded our natural borders and mixed, I think. We both grieve, and they mix, so we... each suffer more for it._

"That sounds... debilitating," he whispered.

_Yes_.

"but... Jounouchi-kun... he deserves all our grief, even if..." Yuugi shifted on his side, still curled on his uninjured shoulder, "... even if it's too much to bear."

The shadow did not respond to that directly, but the shadow did shift from its position on the wall, turning its head toward the doorway and then seemed to slide from the wall and move across the floor like a dragged fabric. Words trailed behind it and disappeared.

_The police officers have returned, outside the door. Do you want me to—?_

Yuugi shook his head briefly, uncurling a little. Yuugi, after all, knew he hadn't killed anybody. He couldn't say the same for the... other Yuugi.

The door opened quite loudly, and Yuugi heard two sets of footsteps enter.

_Wait, how did you—?_

_I will not let my guard down again, _answered the voice in his head, deep with fury and threat. _Never._

"Ah, kid, you awake?" Yuugi rolled over, onto his back, but no further; the doorway in which the officers stood was to Yuugi's left, and he did not want to roll onto the freshly dressed wound, or provoke the stitching.

"Yes, officers, I'm awake," he said, dully, turning a glance at the two men. They appeared to be the same officers that had burst into the apartment, and it was very strange to be seeing them in color this time. Still uniformed, both men were tall and muscular, but the officer on the right was a good head taller, narrower, blonder, and much, much uglier. Yuugi was sure that they were probably confused for one another often, which was strange because they really looked nothing alike.

The shorter brunet cop walked over with a noticeable, yet negligible limp and sat upon the edge of Yuugi's bed. Yuugi sat up fully, his hands possessively holding his Puzzle.

"We searched you for I.D.," said the brunet, his eyes sunk deep into his skull in fatigue, his voice rough from years of chewing gravel, "after you passed out, but you turned up lacking. You got a name, kid?"

_They thought it was a fake_, chimed in the other voice, and Yuugi could feel a scowl behind his own eyes; he hoped it didn't show on his face. _Idiots_.

"Mutou Yuugi," he said, his voice low and dull, "my mom is probably worried sick about me. Could you call her?" Yuugi's grip on the Puzzle tightened; it was probably noon by now, how long had they worried? "We live with my grandfather, he owns the Turtle Game Shop in town—"

"All right," said the cop with a placating gesture, "I'll have my partner go call your house, all right?" Yuugi nodded, his eyes still puffy and red from crying. The two cops exchanged a look, and the scary tall blond one left without a word. The remaining officer returned his attention to Yuugi. "All right, Mutou-san—"

"I'm in high school," Yuugi muttered, but the venom was only half-hearted, "you probably don't believe me or anything, but I'm not a little kid." The cop nodded as though he got this sort of thing all the time, and Yuugi bristled.

"Can you tell me what happened?" The Puzzle seemed to pulse in warning under Yuugi's fingertips, but Yuugi nodded anyway.

"My... my best friend..." Yuugi choked on the words, Jounouchi's smiling and bloodstained face filling his vision, a specter painted on the far wall. "Oh god," Yuugi clenched his eyes shut, feeling the sorrow boil up within him once more, and _dammit_ why did he have to say anything?

"Do you mean one of the other people at the scene?"

Yuugi nodded. "Jounouchi-kun... Jounouchi Katsuya, but nobody calls him that—he—" a hiccup in his ramble silenced Yuugi, and the officer frowned at him sternly.

"Mutou-san, you're the only witness to a heinous crime, and we would very much appreciate your cooperation with our investigation, and—"

"You heartless _bastard!_" Yuugi screamed, yet again struggling not to drown. "My best friend just got _murdered_ by some bitch who couldn't stand to lose a game, and you think I did it, but I didn't! I couldn't—" Yuugi hiccupped again, and it almost felt as though someone cupped a hand gently over his mouth, though there was no hand.

_Do not fall too deep into the ocean_, whispered Yuugi's other voice softly into his mind. The hand that was not there, had it been there, would have fallen away. Yuugi let out a sigh, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled." Yuugi scrubbed at the tears on his cheek, "or called you a bastard, or heartless."

The cop waved a dismissing hand at him, and said, "I've heard worse," and if Yuugi were in any sort of positive mood he might have asked for examples.

As it were, the not-real hand that had not cupped Yuugi's mouth was now not resting on his shoulder, and was most definitely not trying to massage the muscle comfortingly. Not at all. His eyes slid closed, aching and sore.

"I guess the investigation can wait," the cop murmured, "since we're not technically supposed to speak to you until you're with your guardians or a lawyer anyway."

Yuugi cracked open one eye and fuzzily stared at the officer. _If he isn't meant to be speaking with me_, he thought, _then it's even less likely that he's actually supposed to tell me that he's not._

Without another word the cop abruptly stood and exited the room.

_That was odd,_ thought Yuugi, and the nonexistent hand that definitely wasn't on his shoulder certainly did not give him a reassuring squeeze before falling away and back into complete nonexistence.

Then there was the matter of the voice that was obviously a defense mechanism brought on by—

Well, _that_.

"Hello?" Yuugi whispered quietly, hoping no one outside the room could hear, "are you still there?"

_Yes_, responded the voice both in Yuugi's mind and, faintly, in his ears. _Always_.

"Does that mean... all those times I talked to the Puzzle, did you...?"

_Hear you?_

_Oh God,_ Yuugi thought, almost surprised that he could feel flustered by anything right now, but still, _I told you everything!_

_Thank you_, said the voice, and the sudden non sequitur knocked the blush off his cheeks.

_Wait... what?_

_You..._ the voice sounded a little confused, but also louder in Yuugi's ears, _you thanked me, and spoke to me. I... have not been spoken to in a very, very long time. Longer still since I've heard anything remotely... affectionate. So, thank you._

Yuugi was pretty positive that the phrase "the crazies know they're sane" was utter bollocks; after all, here was Yuugi, in the hospital, after being shot for _winning a board game_, and his best friend actually murdered for breaking even, and Yuugi was probably the prime suspect as he was the only survivor (and if he learned anything from watching movies, it was that shoulder wounds _always_ looked self-inflicted), and instead of feeling angry, or anxious, or scared, Yuugi was talking to a voice in his head that claimed to live in an inanimate chunk of gold and who, apparently, also caused Yuugi to suffer from visual hallucinations.

Then again, maybe Yuugi was crazy because he thought – no, he _believed_ – the voice to be honest and real and _not_ originating from his own brain. There was no way of knowing for sure, really, but if Yuugi had to choose between crazy and talking to himself, or crazy and having a talking psychic Puzzle, the choice was obvious.

Psychic Puzzles, ahoy!

_You don't have to thank me_, Yuugi thought, but whatever response the voice had went... unvoiced, for then a very distraught yell sounded down the hallway, high and feminine and instantly recognizable to Yuugi's ears.

"I don't care if there's an investigation," the female shouted, "Yuugi wouldn't have done anything wrong! I want to see him!"

Behind and below her shouts, Yuugi heard another familiar voice, deep and masculine and obviously pushing down his own worry to prevent the other person from getting kicked out.

_There should be three_, whispered a voice in Yuugi's mind that he knew to be his own doubts and worries and devil's advocate, _but you tend to build them up to four, don't you? Three is stable – four is unbalanced, and tumbles and breaks in a stiff wind._

Someone silenced that voice, pushing it to the back of his mind, but if it was Yuugi or that voice that was not Yuugi who did so, he couldn't tell.

The door to his room nearly slammed against the wall in opening.

"Yuugi!" the woman cried, flinging herself across the room and her arms quickly encircled his neck.

"Mama," he whispered, wrapping his good arm around her back.

"Yuugi," the masculine voice, Grandfather, called softly from the door, "are you—?"

"I'm fine," Yuugi said, not really turning from the tight embrace of his mother. He felt her push the Puzzle aside in order to tighten her hold on him without bruising either of them on the sharp metal, and faintly Yuugi felt his shadow extend away from him, gliding across the floor; he shivered in his mother's arms.

"We were so worried when you didn't come home," she said, soft and quiet and Yuugi closed his eyes, letting himself sink in the oddly comforting pitch of her voice, "and then we get calls from the _police_," she nearly spat the word into Yuugi's hair, and he could feel her fingers clenching tighter through the hospital gown, "those useless bastards can't stop a crime or catch a crook or—"

"Mama," Yuugi whispered, not wanting to think back to that time; the Puzzle seemed to pulse against his side, and Yuugi laid his free hand upon its surface to calm it.

"Yuugi, your mother and I... would very much like to know what happened to you last night," said Grandfather, crossing to the bed with a fire in his eyes. _To you_, he had said, and Yuugi suddenly knew what burned behind that glare, and his fear dissipated.

Yuugi was getting used to recognizing the desire for revenge.

His mother finally pulled away, but only enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Yuugi cradled his hands around the Millennium Puzzle, feeling its heat as though it had spent the last week basking in sunlight. Yuugi opened his mouth to speak, but he felt the swift retraction of his possessed shadow returning to him, and once more he felt the phantom press of a hand over his mouth. The faintest whisper from the voice told that two more people approached his room – one of which was the cop from before, another a young woman who may have been a nurse. Yuugi pressed his lips shut.

_How on earth can you tell?_ He asked silently, disbelieving, taking care to not watch the door.

_The cop has a limp, and the nurse wears heels,_ the voice said, slightly put-out.

Yuugi then caught the sound of footsteps outside his door.

_I'm sorry, I—_

_—I understand_, they said, and the way the pronouns overlapped, with Yuugi's humility and the other's arrogance made for what Yuugi thought could be an interesting juxtaposition, but his attention was swiftly diverted when the two more people crossed the threshold of the door.

"There, you see?" The limping cop was saying, gesturing to Yuugi as he and an anxious-looking nurse strode into the room, "he's awake, with his guardians, and does not appear to be suffering from heinous amounts of pain. Ergo, my partner and I shall be taking the kid into police custody such that we can continue our investigation. Is that clear?"

The nurse would have countered, Yuugi could tell, if she had any form of leverage over the cop. Instead, she threw up her arms in disgust. "Fine! But when he gets an infection from stress and poor medical treatment, it'll be on _your_ head!" The nurse spared Yuugi a pitying look before she turned on her heel and flounced out of the room.

Yuugi's mother and grandfather had not spent that little interlude idle – they both now stood protectively in front of Yuugi's bed. The sentiment was kind, but Yuugi was pretty sure that the police had far more power than a panicked mother.

Not that they ever _used_ it.

"Ah, you must be the boy's parents," said the officer, and though Yuugi couldn't see his face he was sure that his grandfather was rolling his eyes.

"Close," said Yuugi quietly, "he's my grandfather."

"And he's not a boy," said his mother harshly, her hands slowly fisting, "he's a fifteen-year-old _young man_, and we'd appreciate it if you didn't patronize him because of his appearance, _Officer_."

Yuugi flinched at the anger in her voice – he'd heard it before, screamed down telephone wires, but that was long ago – and he closed his eyes. His mother hated Domino cops, and this was not boding well for Yuugi. He heard the achingly loud footfalls of the second cop striding down the hallway, and the ugly cop entered carrying a sheaf of papers. _Goody_, thought Yuugi, _my warrant_.

"Sasaki, tell me you've got the paperwork?" asked the brunet, and awkwardly Yuugi hoped this cop would get a name soon.

"Yes, sir," _damn_, "and we've got the car ready outside."

"Good. Mutou-san, ah, Yuugi-san, can you walk?"

"Wait just a moment!" yelled his mother, spreading out her arms as though to shield him, and Yuugi was painfully reminded of Jounouchi – _only the day before!_ – having similarly shielded Yuugi from danger. God, if only Jounouchi hadn't been such a good friend, or even a friend at all! He'd still be alive...

Yuugi clenched his eyes shut and tightened his hold on the Puzzle.

"My son just got _shot_. You have no right to be taking him anywhere!"

"That, ma'am, is entirely incorrect," said the brunet, waving the sheaf of papers he'd just received. "The shooting happened a full twelve hours ago, and this stack of papers here gives me every right to take your son somewhere very specific."

The cop pushed past Yuugi's mother, ignoring both her and his grandfather in favor of grabbing Yuugi's thankfully good arm.

"Mutou Yuugi, you are hereby under arrest for the suspected murders of Sasori Hebi, Sasori Hikari, and Jounouchi Katsuya."

* * *

--

* * *

"Challenging them to Dark Games at this point would be a very _bad_ idea."

_... he twisted your injured arm. Whatever those doctors did was undone. It is unforgivable!_

Yuugi sat in a holding cell on the second floor of the downtown Domino City Police Station, clutching the Puzzle to his chest tightly and watching dark shadow words trail across the wall opposite his cot. He wasn't sure why no one had yet attempted to confiscate the Puzzle, considering how large, sharp, heavy, and obviously expensive it was, but he was grateful nonetheless. Then again, no one had bothered to get him a change of clothes, either, so he was stuck in his school uniform from the previous day – bloodstains and all.

He and the voice, the shadow, had been talking for a few hours now, ever since the interrogation force had decided to call it a night; even that had been a couple hours after both grandfather and mother had been kicked out due to 'visiting hours.' Yuugi's arm was in pain again, the dressings were probably dark red from the ripped stitches, and Yuugi was trying very hard to convince the other Yuugi that exacting revenge while being held suspect for triple homicide was probably an unwise move, considering that the shadow had explained that its games _tended_ to drive people insane, and occasionally to death.

'He twisted my arm and thus deserved to have his mind shattered by my psychic possessed Puzzle' was probably not a defense that would hold up well in any court.

(Though he kept it in mind, in case pleading insanity seemed like a better route.)

"Eh, let me put it this way," Yuugi whispered, too low for even himself to fully make out the words, "this is like... a very serious game. They're going to cheat, but if we can convince them that we – or, at least, _I_ – didn't kill Jounouchi-kun and the others, then we win."

_I never lose a game_, trailed the words on the wall.

"I haven't for years," replied Yuugi.

Neither brought up that winning was what got them here in the first place.

_... but once we win..._

Yuugi closed his eyes. "We'll... we'll talk about that when it happens."

It was probably past midnight now; the main lights had been turned off long before now, leaving the only illumination to be the emergency floor lights. Inwardly, Yuugi wondered: should there be a fire or some other calamity, would the doors open automatically, or would he have to wait for someone to manually unlock it? The thought was rather distressing in either situation.

Yuugi yawned, leaning back flat upon the cot, and felt the shadow retract. His wound still stung, but he wasn't in any position to do anything to it to alleviate the pain.

When his mother and grandfather had still been present at the station, the questioning had been rudimentary and calm, following procedure to the letter. It was only after they had left that the officers got a bit rough, trying to force a confession from him quickly. Yuugi didn't understand the interrogators' almost frantic expressions, but it had scared Yuugi.

Of course he was scared! Their actions in the interrogation room seemed too chaotic for trained professionals, and even though Yuugi knew (and had been assured by the voice) that he hadn't touched either of the weapons, the way those men had looked so desperate—

Somewhere, a door opened, and Yuugi could faintly hear voices carrying down the hallway. He made to sit up, but it felt as though a strong hand was pushing down upon the Puzzle, pinning him flat to the cot.

_Be still,_ said the voice in his mind once more, and faintly in his ears.

Yuugi relaxed, and the pressure on his sternum eased. The two unfamiliar voices became clearer as they approached, and eventually Yuugi was able to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"—doesn't make it right," muttered one, a young man with a tenor voice, sounding more disappointed than angry. "The kid's got no motive, no record, and the prelims only have his prints on the game – tokens, dice, that shit."

It seemed unlikely that they were talking about anyone _other_ than Yuugi; he focused intently on the conversation.

"You know how it goes," said another voice, older and deeper and scratchy with smoking, "prints are easy to erase, everyone starts a record somewhere, and no one's going to buy that the media darling daughters of Sasori fucking Tadashi killed anyone, let alone themselves."

If Yuugi weren't trying to keep still and quiet, he would have slapped himself in disbelief. Of course! Yuugi didn't pay much attention to idols, but Anzu did, and he _knew_ he had recognized the man in the photograph with Hebi and Hikari. Hell, Anzu _worshiped_ the Sasori twins – he remembered buying her one of their albums for her birthday. How had he not recognized them before? That must have been what Jounouchi meant, why he had been so struck by their flirtation; Jounouchi was an even bigger idol chaser than Anzu. _Dammit all to hell!_ he thought, but the two men continued.

"This is why I hate idols," muttered Junior, "and working in Domino, at that."

"I hear ya," said Smokey, and Yuugi heard the splash of water: mop in a bucket, at least one of them was a janitor. "Poor kid. How many years do you think he'll get?"

Another splash of water. "—at least. If he's lucky, he might get out in thirty years, but from the look of him I'd be surprised if he lasted that many _minutes_ in there," said Junior. "Fuck! Everyone knows the kid's gonna get convicted – facing the financial empire of the Sasori family? If Sasori wants the kid to take the fall, he's gonna fall."

"He'd be less fucked as a Taiwanese hooker with no teeth," grumbled Smokey.

Yuugi kept his breathing slow and his eyes closed, but his hands were clenched tightly and his short fingernails were trying to cut into his skin. The two janitors seemed to have forgotten about Yuugi's situation, for they then moved to more light-hearted subjects, like Smokey's divorce and Junior's best friend running off with Junior's inheritance.

In Yuugi's mind, there was silence. Then,

_... shall I challenge this Sasori Tadashi to a Dark Game, then?_

_No_, Yuugi thought in response with a despairing sigh, _he's a father, and parents always want to believe in their children. It's just... ah, the game is rigged worse than I thought._

_Rigged games are the easiest to win, once you know the trick,_ replied the voice confidently.

_So what's the trick, split personality of mine?_

There was a pause in their conversation, and Yuugi strained to hear noise outside his cell, but now there was only the hum of electricity from the floor lights.

_... Jounouchi-kun's trick_, said the voice.

_Getting shot in the stomach by a pop idol doesn't seem like a good trick to me,_ Yuugi replied, trying not to gag, or cry at the memory of his friend's— _I mean, sure, we'd get out of prison, but we'd be right back once it healed._

_No_, said the other voice sternly, _the trick that won the game_.

Yuugi frowned, trying to remember how the game ended exactly. Hadn't he – they, Yuugi and the shadow – won? Wasn't that why he was here?

No... Jounouchi won, and then the game ended. How did Jounouchi win?

Yuugi could tell that the voice knew precisely how Jounouchi had won the game, but from the very patient inflection of even the silence Yuugi knew that the voice wanted him to realize the trick on his own. Yuugi thought back to the final few turns of the game, after Hikari had... but before she...

_... the Axe? _He thought, remembering the item card, remembered picking it up after waking up, remembering sliding the card into his pocket, and the token on the board, and the way they had been covered in blood— _are you talking about the Fire Axe?_

_He left the board_, replied the voice. _His piece was in danger, but he did not allow the game to take him. He did not lose. He broke the wall and removed himself from play, from the range of damage – and was not survival the goal?_

_... you want us to break out of jail,_ replied Yuugi incredulously.

_You heard as well as I did what will happen if we remain on the board!_ The voice responded, and Yuugi winced at the force of the cry. _You will be sent to a prison, where you will be maimed and tortured for the rest of your life—_ the voice was becoming hysterical, and Yuugi quietly cried out in pain, sitting up as he covered his ears, but that could not soften the raving— _and I will not be able to protect you, or even be with you, for they will take the Puzzle from you and break it, or sell it, and you shall suffer and cry out in pain for a crime you did not commit!_

"But YOU DID!" Yuugi shouted back, his eyes scrunched up and crying from the throbbing in his skull, and why was it he couldn't run out of tears? _The blood is on my hands, my Puzzle, my conscience! Do you honestly think that anyone would believe that some... I don't even know what you are! That some voice in my head challenged a pop star's daughter to a Game of fucking Darkness, after she had killed her own sister, and that the girl was compelled to kill herself?_

Even if he had been thinking clearly, Yuugi probably would not have praised his foresight in continuing his rant within the confines of his mind, but the voice did notice the switch.

"Not fucking likely," Yuugi whispered, his eyes closed as he smacked his head against the wall. His hands, no longer clutching his skull in futile attempts to stifle the voice, now lay still against the Puzzle, still feeling its sun-trapped warmth.

The voice was oddly quiet as Yuugi started crying.

"Solving this... I wished for a friend," Yuugi whispered, barely loud enough for his own ears to catch. "I wished for a friend who would never betray me, and who I could never betray – who wouldn't let me down, who I wouldn't— I want my friend back. You gave him to me once," he whispered desperately, squeezing the Puzzle, "give him back!"

_The Puzzle did not give you Jounouchi-kun_, the voice whispered into his ear, into his mind, it _was Jounouchi-kun who gave himself to you. The Puzzle... gave you me._

Emotionally wrought, Yuugi ground his teeth, his eyes snapping open as he spat to the source of the voice, "I don't want _you_."

He felt the tug as his shadow pulled away, and he watched the darkness spread across the floor, up the wall, larger than life before scaling back down to Yuugi's height. He watched, waiting for words to appear on the wall, waiting for the shadow to say _something_, say _anything_, but no words appeared.

Instead, Yuugi watched the shadow _walk off of the wall_.

It was difficult to notice at first, but as he watched the shadow got larger for getting closer, pulling away from the solid surface of the wall until it became a shadow mannequin, the shape of Yuugi cast solely in darkness, semitransparent and coming closer. Yuugi tried scooting back from the shadow's approach, but where could he go? He was locked in a holding cell at midnight, no one was around, no one was here but Yuugi and his transforming shadow, his shadow gaining color, gaining pigment.

Yuugi was staring at himself.

The shadow, which was no longer a shadow, looked almost exactly like Yuugi, but his expression was frightening and intense, and his entire body let in light without resistance, lacking substance. Its hair was styled the same as Yuugi's, a five-pointed crown like a starfish, its clothes were the same as Yuugi's, its Puzzle was the same as Yuugi's, and Yuugi cried out in fear.

He was staring at his own ghost.

The ghost Yuugi stopped his approach, glowering, and Yuugi noticed that though they wore the same clothes and the same, the same, that the bloodstains on the ghost's uniform were different, the rips in the fabric were different, the way he stood was different, the anger on his face was different than the anger Yuugi had ever felt his own face express.

The ghost's eyes narrowed, dark and angular and sharp like knives, in an expression Yuugi _never_ wanted to wear.

"If you don't want me," whispered the ghost Yuugi, his voice an emotionally clogged baritone, deeper and stronger than Yuugi's voice ever sounded, "then smash the Puzzle and scatter the pieces and welcome your time in prison."

And though he had watched the transformation take place, Yuugi was struck by the realization, as the other boy climbed onto the foot of the cot. "You..."

"But unless you commit such desperate acts," he said, not approaching any further, "then I will _never_ leave you, never hurt you, never allow you to be hurt, for I have no one in the world other than you, for our pain is shared." Although Yuugi could see the far wall through them, he was stricken by the dark gaze that the other Yuugi leveled upon him. "I cannot die while you and the Puzzle survive, and while there is strength in your limbs and your heart I shall not falter to protect you."

Yuugi pushed away from the wall, shaking, letting his hands fall on the cot between them. The other boy placed his hands next to Yuugi's, but they did not touch.

"And so help me," said the other darkly, "I shall _not_ allow your otherwise noble sense of sacrifice and penance be used to cage and abuse you on the whims of a family rotted and poisoned with pettiness and false honor. You may prevent me from hurting others," the other boy growled, "but I will not allow anyone – not even _you_ – to bring pain upon you, or hurt you.

"So," he said, leaning back and cupping his own bloodstained Puzzle, "when I say we will use Jounouchi-kun's trick to open the wall and escape the confines of the board," Yuugi's eyes widened as the other boy pulled from his pocket the item card Yuugi had taken, watched as the other boy pulled from the card what looked like a string of shadow. As he pulled, the string grew wider and darker and thicker, taking shape while across its surface leaped what looked like bolts of black electricity, until it finalized in the shape of a fucking _jet black fire axe_, "then we will _do so_. Do we have an understanding, my partner in the body and one who solved the Puzzle?"

The other boy held out the electric Axe of Darkness. Yuugi, after a moment of hesitation, looked into the other boy's eyes. He read the fierce determination of a stubborn will, and fear, and anger, and a myriad of other emotions Yuugi knew he himself felt in these same moments, and with a nod he grabbed hold of the axe.

"We do," he whispered, "my split personality, triggered by trauma and apparently able to cause all sorts of crazy hallucinations."

The other boy frowned, and pulled back at the axe. "I am _not_ a figment, or a specter," he grumbled. "Just because I share your body doesn't mean I don't exist."

"... I could call you by your name," Yuugi suggested. "If you have one."

"... I do have one," said the other boy, still holding tight to the axe, "... though I cannot seem to remember it."

Yuugi frowned. "How do you not know your own name? Don't answer that." Yuugi pursed his lips. "Well, what should I name you then?"

"I..." the boy paused, for the first time looking uncertain, "I do not think I can be named. I think something terrible would happen if I were to take a new name."

This, Yuugi decided, was the clincher. He was definitely insane.

"If you cannot _take_ a name," he whispered, gazing at their hands on the handle, his own hands solid and the other's only mostly visible, "then I guess we'll have to share a name, like everything else. Can you be the other me?"

" 'The Other Yuugi?' " asked the other boy with a tilt of his head. "I'd much prefer that to being a mental illness, _aibou_. Now," he pushed the axe towards Yuugi with a kind smile. "Break the wall."

Yuugi tightened his grip on the axe and as the other boy, the other Yuugi that acted nothing like the original Yuugi, let go of the axe, Yuugi watched his other self seem to dissolve into air, melting back into shadow. Startled, Yuugi nearly dropped the axe.

_I am here,_ said the other Yuugi within his mind, and for the first time the voice caused Yuugi to relax, _Now_...

Yuugi nodded, rising from the cot and walking to the outer wall. His cell was on the second floor of the station, and though his room shared only one wall with the evening sky, he had no window for blatantly obvious reasons. He was completely crazy, but Yuugi still raised the axe of darkness to the outer wall and swung with all his might.

The axe shattered on contact.

So did the wall.

Barely comprehending what just happened, if he understood any of this night at all, Yuugi felt the press of the other Yuugi within his mind, and with a sense of vertigo Mutou Yuugi relinquished control of his body to the other, distressingly fatigued. As the darkness of sleep engulfed his mind, Yuugi briefly wondered how a solid wall could shatter like frozen glass, or a life, or dust, or a thousand dreams, when attacked with nothing more than the shadow of a thing?


	5. in which Yuugi leaves Domino

**Sight the King**  
05/21  
"in which Yuugi gets the hell out of Domino"

* * *

**_the god who feeds on his father and eats his mother._**

* * *

When Yuugi awoke next – immediately feeling sick of waking up somewhere he had not fallen asleep, and realizing that such a change of location happened in only a few hours at most – he was standing in his bedroom closet. Well, _he_ wasn't – the _other_ him was.

Yuugi pushed lightly on the barrier that separated him from the other inhabitant of his body, the one who was currently controlling Yuugi's fingers fastening the buttons of a clean shirt.

"Ah," said the other Yuugi, using Yuugi's lips to whisper softly in a voice that was distinctly not Yuugi's, but close enough that anyone else would miss the difference. "You're awake."

_Other me? What are we doing here?_ Yuugi was worried. _Won't this be the first place they'll look?_

Yuugi's hands were finishing with the last button of one of his bland, white, spring uniform shirts. Dimly, Yuugi felt pain and tighter pressure from his shoulder wound – had the other Yuugi sewn the wound closed once more?

"It's... how do you say, several hours until the first rays of dawn," said the other Yuugi quietly, slipping on a clean jacket, "and our absence from the prison shall not be noticed until the last of night's darkness is gone."

_Holding cell,_ Yuugi corrected numbly, _prison's later. But you didn't answer my question._

Yuugi walked out of the closet, closing the door behind him softly. "We will have to travel far to reach the edge of the board," he said, "so I'm gathering supplies where I know our opponents will look anyway."

_Oh, I get it,_ replied Yuugi, noticing how much of a disarray the other was causing, _force them to underestimate your strength by playing weak at first – they'll think we'll keep making stupid and obvious moves, so when we do something out of the ordinary, they won't see it coming?_

"Precisely." The other Yuugi dusted himself off, straightening the sleeves of the jacket, and Yuugi felt a pang of worry that they were wasting what little time they had. "Now, _aibou_, what else should we take with us?"

If Yuugi had a face to control, he would have closed his eyes and pursed his lips in thought. _We'll need a backpack, or a suitcase, or a bag to carry things in. Some food, and definitely some money. You've already got the first aid kit—_Yuugi could barely make out the details of it on his bed, but there weren't many things in their house with thick medical crosses on them_—so probably other bathroom stuff, you know, toothbrush and things like that. Anything after that depends on where we're going._

Both Yuugis – the one controlling the body, and the one hidden within the mind – yawned: although Yuugi's mental presence had fallen unconscious several times in the past few days, the other Yuugi had almost always stepped in to take control of his/their body. Excluding however long the surgery had taken the previous afternoon to remove the bullet and sew up his wound, Yuugi had been physically awake for two full days now, and dawn would start the third. Yuugi would have felt surprised that he hadn't passed out by now, if he could have felt anything other than fatigue.

"Will they notice a missing backpack?"

_Yeah, especially if my books are all left behind, but they'd expect me to take it._

"Mmm. Is there something like it that _won't_ be missed?"

The other Yuugi made another sweep through Yuugi's room, tossing things onto the bed next to the first aid kit as he found them: a change of clothes, the money Yuugi had stashed underneath the unopened box of condoms in his dresser, the belt his mother had altered with the thick leather pouch on the side for his Duel Monsters cards (she'd claimed that keeping them in his pants pockets was unseemly given how tight the material would become, and after that any time he'd even tried putting them in his pocket he would flush with mortification at what she'd implied).

While he did this, Yuugi thought over the matter of luggage. Garbage bags wouldn't be missed, but they were conspicuous and unwieldy; nobody had a briefcase other than Yuugi, but that'd be just as noticeable as his backpack, and couldn't carry much besides.

_In the attic are all Grandpa's old archeology and travel things,_ Yuugi remembered suddenly. _No one ever goes up there, and he's got a couple of heavy-duty rucksacks and stuff up there. So long as we don't stir up the dust too bad, no one'll notice anything missing._

While the other Yuugi put on the belt holding Yuugi's deck of Duel Monsters, Yuugi tried focusing through the filmy haze of disconnect barring him from the outside world, like a cataract, and tried counting the amount of yen on the bed. It was a pitiful and pathetic amount, since Yuugi had never really saved his money. After years of it being stolen from him by bullies, he tried spending what he had as soon as he got it on things people wouldn't try to steal. Yuugi had never expected that he'd need it for anything like this.

_This won't be enough,_ Yuugi said quietly, and he could feel the other, outer Yuugi nod softly in response.

"First let's get the bags," he murmured, "then we can worry about it."

It seemed like a much longer span of time, but it really had been only a few minutes since Yuugi 'awoke' before Yuugi was silently pulling the cord to lower the attic staircase. The bottom rung of the stairs gave a small thud as it touched the thin carpet, but it was no louder than the sound of Yuugi's heart. There was no dust on the stairs as Yuugi ascended: part of his mother's weekly cleaning schedule was to dust the staircase, clear the cobwebs from around the attic light, and make sure said light was working properly. Just because we don't use it, she would say, isn't an excuse for neglect. The click of the ceiling light brought Yuugi out of his thoughts.

_Oh, this will wake up Mama for sure; most of the attic is right above—_

"Don't worry, _aibou_," said the other Yuugi calmly, "we are under the protection of darkness. While the sun is dead, our movements are cloaked."

_That's a weird expression_, Yuugi thought numbly, but pressed no further.

If the other Yuugi heard the thought, he didn't acknowledge it. He padded lightly across the attic with all the caution and quiet of a house cat, which is to say 'without' and 'with natural,' respectively.

_They should be in the old Choking Hazards Inc. boxes, near the coffin_, Yuugi thought, taking in their surroundings as best he could with his dimmed senses. The single bulb did surprisingly well in the way of illuminating the attic, casting long shadows across the dark wood floors. There were no moth-consumed couches, or antique cabinets; Yuugi's family was a tad too eclectic for that. Instead, their attic was mostly filled with overstocked games and promotional displays no one had the heart to throw away. From his mother's former work as an Olympic tennis player (six years and two bronze medals) there were some exercise machines and her old sports gear in the far corner. There were boxes filled with Yuugi's old baby clothes, and some things left from his father and other deceased relatives, but the most exciting things were the souvenirs and replicas from father and grandfather's travels around the world, though mainly to the Middle East and Africa.

The coffin – which was really a replica sarcophagus with a fake mummy inside – stood in one corner, and all around the attic there were boxes full of counterfeit vases, replica jewelry and art, scale models of historical sites, and some weapons too. It was because of the trunk full of supposedly battle-ready weaponry that Yuugi was not meant to explore the attic on his own, since he was (in his mother's eyes) so exceedingly clumsy, but at this point his mother's scorn was the least of Yuugi's concerns.

The other Yuugi had found the box Yuugi had mentioned and was examining the largest bag. It was not covered in dust, but in Yuugi's limited visibility he would call it a dusty brown, faded from intense exposure to the desert sun, but otherwise showed no signs of extensive damage.

"This will do," said the other Yuugi, swinging the empty bag over Yuugi's uninjured shoulder. "Where are the weapons?"

_Huh? Ah? What?_ Yuugi stuttered, his thoughts racing. Oh, he wasn't planning on killing more people, was he? Yuugi should probably just call for the psyche-ward now and—

"_Aibou_," said the other Yuugi, calmly, quietly, and full of resolve, "there may be a point where I have to fight someone to protect you, or we may find ourself in the wilderness and have to hunt for food. I do not want us at a disadvantage if we can avoid it. Please."

Yuugi, had he a face and lungs to control, would have sighed. Was there a point in fighting? He just wanted to go back to sleep, and maybe when he woke up this all would have been just a terribly vivid nightmare. _In the trunk, behind the Amazing Arachnid Lad, to our right._

The other Yuugi quickly made a very disjointed path to the chest, pausing at boxes and displays all around the attic, making Yuugi himself dizzy. The other Yuugi carefully sifted through the chest of wrapped weapons, bypassing the longer metal swords and spears and axes (it was a very long chest). Underneath the thickly wrapped blade of a battleaxe laid a comparatively small box, and with great care Yuugi pulled this from the chest.

Even though there was plenty of light falling into the now-open box, Yuugi could not see what was inside. _What did you find?_ Yuugi had to ask.

"A dagger," said Yuugi, "made of bone, and rock. There's also a letter to you. Can you not see it?"

_Everything's fuzzed over, like fog,_ Yuugi replied. _It's all dull._

"Strange," said Yuugi the other, "for even when I am in the back, I can see perfectly through your eyes."

_What does the letter say?_

"Happy birthday, Yuugi," said the other with all the inflection of a bored receptionist, "this is a hunting knife. The blade is solid obsidian, so be careful! Keep it safe, and when I come back I'll teach you how to use it. Love, Dad." The other Yuugi folded the note and put it back in the box.

_Can I... can I read it? Please? _Yuugi asked, pushing tentatively against the cataract barrier between his mind and the rest of the world.

"Of course," replied the other Yuugi as control bled between them, _but we must be quick._

It took maybe ten seconds for the barriers to fall away, but once Yuugi's senses returned at full strength he nearly collapsed in shock.

_Aibou! Are you all right?!_ The other Yuugi called, and Yuugi's overly sensitized nerves told his disoriented brain that there were a thousand hands resting on his shoulders, each made of fire or gold or sand or a thousand other materials. Yuugi shrugged them off.

"I'm fine," he whispered, closing his eyes against the bright light reflecting off of the dark wood, "I'm fine. I've been... ah, awake back there for what, half an hour? My mind got used to everything being... it's just... intense, up here, again."

Slowly Yuugi opened his eyes, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to relax, and he carefully reopened the note. The words were exactly as the other Yuugi had recited them, but it was so much more _real_ to see the sloppy writing on the paper itself.

It had been when Yuugi was very young – maybe only a year or two before he first started school – when his father was formally accepted into one of those volunteer charity groups based in Africa. Greenwood or Greenwich or something like that. His father, not wanting to leave Yuugi and his mother alone to worry about standard employment and babysitters, had persuaded Yuugi's mother to move in with Yuugi's long-widowed paternal grandfather while he was overseas. After a few rather hectic years of bouncing back and forth from Japan to his station in Chad, Yuugi's father had retired out of Greenspace and resumed his more pedestrian duty to his family.

He and Yuugi's mother had, once he returned home for more than a few months, acted as though they had just fallen in love again, and at one point Grandfather asked how many grandchildren he would need to write into his will.

It was maybe only a year after he'd retired that his former corps had begged and pleaded for him to come back for one last assignment, a stint of six months. He'd reluctantly accepted. Rather than give it to him in person months later, Yuugi's father had sent along Yuugi's birthday gift – this knife – in advance. When Yuugi had opened the box, his mother had a fit, since hunting knives were certainly not appropriate birthday gifts for elementary school boys. She promptly she locked it in the attic. When his father came back, she'd said, he could wait until Yuugi was in high school before giving it back to him.

And then—

_Aibou?_

Yuugi blinked rapidly. "Other me?"

_You've been sitting there for a while now. Is something wrong?_

"No, I'm sorry, I was just... remembering something. We can take this, no one will notice it missing." Yuugi shoved the boxed knife into the rucksack before carefully rearranging the weapons in the trunk to cover up the box-shaped void. "I think that's everything worthwhile up here," Yuugi whispered, slipping the rucksack back on over his right shoulder. "Do you want control back?"

_No. It hurt you to take over again, didn't it? So long as there is no danger, I will remain back here._

"It wasn't painful," Yuugi muttered, clicking off the light and descending the pull-down stairs, "just... intense."

_Either way, we still have time before sunrise._

After that, Yuugi worked quickly and in near silence. Emptying out his school bag, Yuugi realized that the other Yuugi had planned for them to take both bags – his backpack, and grandfather's rucksack – and ditch the backpack somewhere off their trail so as to misdirect the police. Into the "decoy," Yuugi put in things he didn't really need – too many extra outfits, and all the non-perishable food from the pantry he could stuff into the bag. Into the rucksack, Yuugi crammed in the first aid kit, a single change of clothes that, due to their size, took up little room, and what little cash he'd found in his room. Downstairs, he raided both his mother's purse and grandfather's wallet for loose cash, though it was to this that he felt the worst about taking.

"Is there any way we can go _without_ robbing them?" Yuugi whispered, staring distastefully at his grandfather's billfold.

_It would make the journey easier,_ replied the voice reassuringly. _Besides, with you not at home, they would spend less money anyway, so... if it sets you at ease, think of this as an advance._

Yuugi shook his head, dropping the empty wallet back to the kitchen counter. "Way to make a kid feel appreciated, other me," he muttered, stuffing money into the rucksack.

_Aibou..._

Yuugi dropped both the rucksack and his backpack on the couch, sighing. "Is there anything else?" he asked, his irritation clear even in the quiet words.

The other Yuugi made a suggestion. Yuugi recoiled.

"I am not robbing the Game Shop!" he replied, an angry hiss of a whisper, and his fists clenched in the material of the couch.

_Not for money_, replied the voice. _We have enough of that. I mean—_

"You want to steal _games_? Are you _insane_?" Yuugi clenched his eyes shut, wishing that he could at least have had a _rational_ split personality. "I'm already on the run for _triple homicide_, I don't need theft too." Within the confines of his mind, Yuugi felt as though the voice was bristling in impatience and annoyance. Yuugi snapped. "The shop has a _security alarm_, and I don't know the password anyway. Even if I _did_, it would give the police a very specific time window for us to have been there. What the hell kind of idea was that, stealing from the shop?"

_Sorry_, the voice replied, sounding not at all repentant, _I just wanted some cards_.

Yuugi swore, and did not thunder up the stairs to his bedroom. He had more self-control than that. Crossing through the room to his dresser, Yuugi yanked out the bottom drawer, revealing a stash of boxes of playing cards, bags of dice, of poker chips, and marbles, and jacks. "I have enough _cards_ to run a small casino," Yuugi shot back, knowing deep down that lashing out at his only companion (even if it was a _voice in his head_) wasn't wise, but he couldn't help succumbing to his overflowing feelings of anger and ineptitude and frustration and—

_Ah. I must have missed this earlier._

Yuugi began shoving decks of cards into his bag. Although his room was usually a mess, he had always kept his cards and dice organized: if he wanted to play a game of six-dice knock-out, he didn't want to spend half an hour searching and have only two d-4s to show for it. "Is ten decks enough, or should I go with twenty?"

_Aibou! Can you delay your anger until we have gotten out of Domino?_ The voice was very forcibly calm in Yuugi's mind, but even as he 'watched,' Yuugi felt the voice losing its undertone of anger. _I only wanted the cards because they would be a quick way to earn money, once the supply we have runs out._

Yuugi released a very long sigh, and carefully he rearranged the decks in his drawer to cover up the absence. "Is this everything?" Yuugi asked, bottling up his anger and his fatigue and pushing them out of his voice.

_That's everything,_ replied the voice. _This took far less time than I was expecting, to be honest._

"Me too," Yuugi replied, and with some difficulty shouldered both bags onto his one good arm awkwardly, the rucksack flat against his back and the backpack atop it. He quietly made his way back downstairs. "So where are we going to go?" He asked softly, leaning against the wall to tighten his belt a notch without dropping his bags.

_We will need to dispose of the decoy some place where it would seem likely that we might try to hide and be attacked,_ the voice said softly, and the memory of the place came to Yuugi's mind without his conscious summoning. Yuugi nodded softly.

"Yeah, that seems like the place," he said, cutting through the front room to the door when he noticed something that he hadn't before. He wasn't sure if his lack of notice meant it had been recently placed or if it had been there all along. On the side table, next to the front door, was a thick stack of cards with a folded yellow half-sheet of paper sitting on top like a tent.

"I thought you said they wouldn't notice us?" Yuugi whispered harshly, looking around for any other signs that one of his guardians might be lurking in the room.

_They should not have awoken, or noticed us even had they been awake,_ replied the voice. Yuugi examined the note, but in the dim lighting of the room he could only make out that the writing was tiny and cramped, and besides his own name he couldn't read a word of it. He shoved the note into his pocket before picking up the deck. They were not playing cards, Yuugi realized suddenly.

"This is Grandpa's deck," Yuugi said softly, stunned when he recognized the design on the back of the cards, flicking through the top few from the stack. This particular deck was one of his grandfather's prized possessions – why would he purposefully leave it out with a note for Yuugi? It implied that he wanted Yuugi to take the deck, and thus meant grandfather expected Yuugi to break out of prison – er, a holding cell, – a serious implication of guilt in the crime.

_Aibou, we have to go_, urged the voice. Yuugi nodded, and flipping open the pouch on his belt he slid out his own deck and replaced it with grandfather's. Yuugi slid his personal deck into his coat pocket.

The door pushed into the house under Yuugi's touch and a chill night breeze, and with a final apology Yuugi crossed the threshold, trying to ignore the burn in his heart that screamed that he could never cross this path again.

* * *

_--_

* * *

I feel blood. Should I be saying 'oww?'

"Eh, sorry _aibou_."

_I thought you said you knew how to use this thing?_

"It's much more difficult than it looks! Just one more..."

They had dropped the decoy bag out near J'z bar, the hideout of the Rintama High gang that had all been "mysteriously hospitalized" after they had attempted to shanghai Jounouchi into joining their group. The other Yuugi, who claimed a greater proficiency at knife usage, had taken over to slash the decoy bag to look as though it had been torn from a fleeing individual. Enough of the gang was out of the hospital to be potential witnesses, but thankfully none had been in that particular alleyway. The other Yuugi explained that, in the police's investigation of the area and the gang to see who had attacked Yuugi and where he had gone, they would waste enough time to give them a good head start to reach the 'edge of the board.'

At the moment, the other Yuugi was trying very carefully to modify Yuugi's rather insane hairstyle so that they wouldn't be so instantly recognizable. The bleached blond fringe was causing a bit of difficulty – Yuugi had only recently touched up the roots, so the other Yuugi was forced to shear close to the scalp in order to cut away all the yellow, and unfortunately did not have nearly as much knife skill as he hoped.

_You nicked me again. You're doing this on purpose._

"This is very difficult to do without a mirror," grumbled the other Yuugi, "and your forehead curves weird."

_It curves because it's a forehead, other me,_ Yuugi replied irritably. _Have you got it all yet?_

"I think so," the other Yuugi sighed, collecting the thick blond locks from their resting place on the letter from Yuugi's father.

They, in one body, were sitting on the lid of a garbage bin behind a beauty parlor a few blocks away from the Domino city bus station. The other Yuugi put the obsidian knife back into the box, before flipping open the other side of the dumpster and carefully dumping Yuugi's hair. The yellow easily blended with the greens and pinks of this establishment's more eclectic patrons.

_That took so long to get perfect_, Yuugi mourned pathetically, self-consciously knowing that of all that he was giving up and had lost, his blond hair was the least important. He was going to blame it on fatigue.

"The rest is going too," the other Yuugi muttered, retrieving the knife once more. The sky was finally lightening from black to blue, signifying the impending sunrise.

_No! It'd be way too suspicious if a kid looking like he's twelve tried buying a bus ticket with a scratched and bloody shaved head._

The other Yuugi paused, knife in hand. "Actually, about that," he said, lowering the knife, "I have a better idea."

_What, better than buying a bus ticket and taking a cab?_ Yuugi asked as the other Yuugi wrapped a bandage around their bleeding scalp, like a bandanna of a kung fu fighter. The longer Yuugi spent awake in the back, the thinner the cataract barrier became, so for a moment he thought he was in control when he felt his mouth turn up in a grin.

"How probable is it that we'll find at least one gambler at the bus station?"

* * *

--

* * *

The plan was simple: convince a guy that Yuugi was running away from his well-to-do parents who would easily find him if he actually bought a bus ticket himself, so Yuugi wanted to win one off of someone else in a round of cards.

"But why," asked their mark as he picked up his hand for five-stud poker, "don't you just straight-out buy a ticket off of someone else?"

Yuugi – the real Yuugi – smiled. "Well, where's the fun of that?" he asked, discarding two from his hand.

The flippant reply, of course, was something the other Yuugi would say to disarm his opponent; Yuugi said it because it was true.

Both Yuugi and the mark wound up with flushes, but Yuugi's high card was a jack to the other man's eight. The man handed over his bus ticket with a smile.

"I don't know anything about you, kid," he'd said, refusing to take the money Yuugi offered (the stakes had been that if Yuugi won, he would have to pay for the bus ticket; if Yuugi lost, he would have simply given the man money. Yuugi refused to let someone else get stranded), "or what you're running from, but I hope you get where you're going."

So now Yuugi was sitting in an aisle seat halfway back on an under-filled cross-country bus, his rucksack in the seat to his right, and his grandfather's deck in his hands.

The bus was headed through Gammon to Jenga, but they decided it would be best to jump ship somewhere between the two cities to make their way by foot to the seaport town of Titan. It was risky to go to Titan, a well-known city in the worst ways, famous for its ridiculously high crime and abduction rates, easily a hub for the import and export of drugs and human trafficking. If the Yakuza had a hometown, it was Titan, and Yuugi and his other self agreed that it was, ironically, the safest place to hide out before trying to catch a ship to the mainland.

Getting out of the country by boat was probably what the authorities would expect Yuugi to do, but if they even found the man Yuugi had gotten the bus ticket from and he confessed what happened, the police would probably assume Yuugi would wait until he actually gotten to Jenga before trying to make his way out of the country. Even then, they would have a hard time finding the one witness knowing Yuugi's destination, and the man probably wouldn't be able to identify Yuugi straight off anyway. Yuugi had spent a rather painful half hour working his hair out of its customary spikes, chopped off about half of its length, leaving the dark hair to hang long and heavy in his face. After that, he'd gone to the beauty parlor and, already being mostly unrecognizable, gotten his hair dyed back to that dark red that had formerly only resided in his grown-out tips. Shorter, his hair bloomed out into many more spikes that snaked up like fire.

Then – even _if_ they got traced to Titan – it would be almost impossible for the authorities to find him. Titan was criminally corrupt, but also a huge city. Compared to Titan, Domino was a small-town police state. Even a specific kid convicted of triple homicide would be difficult to catch in Titan.

_You're worried_, said the other Yuugi, and Yuugi nodded numbly. Although still on the brink of passing out from exhaustion, Yuugi couldn't yet seem to fall asleep.

_Not about us_, Yuugi thought back, aware of the other six-or-seven passengers within earshot around him, _but my friends... they'll be so angry with me. I mean,_ Yuugi flipped up another card: kuriboh (grandfather's deck was so weird!) _Jounouchi-kun's... dead, I'm the only suspect, and I broke out of police custody. I don't even know if they know anything. And mom, and grandpa... they probably all think I did it..._ His hands tightened around the cards. _They probably all hate me._

_Aibou... _whispered the other Yuugi, his voice filled with sorrow and comfort like mother's had been back when— _your friends know you well enough to realize that you could never betray Jounouchi-kun the way Hikari betrayed her sister._

Yuugi shook his head numbly, raking a hand through his shorter hair. _Maybe_, he thought back, gazing out to the passing scenery. Outside the window, the bus drove past small plots of farmland and a very small rural town, the high noon sun turning the landscape brilliant in hue. His eyes ached from the brightness and essentially three days without physical rest, so Yuugi finally nestled down in his seat. His wound still hurt, but it felt better than it probably should (having never been shot before, or known anyone who had been shot, Yuugi had no frame of reference).

Closing his eyes, Yuugi pulled over and hugged his rucksack over his Puzzle, burrowing his face in the aged leather that smelled both of far off lands and overpoweringly of _home_, and he silently wracked with the final sobs for the life he was forced to leave behind before he finally – for the first time since any of this had started – succumbed to natural sleep.


	6. in which there is an edge to the board

**Sight the King**  
06/21  
"in which there is an edge to the board"**  
**

* * *

**_The king is such a tower of wisdom_**

* * *

Yuugi had gotten two, maybe two and a half hours of sleep by they time they arrived in Gammon. The bus station, thankfully, was near enough the outer ridge of town that it would only take a few hours to walk to Titan. However, it was already nearing sundown and Yuugi felt leery of traveling at night. The other Yuugi, predictably, had other ideas.

_It's not as if we need to worry about being attacked by robbers,_ wrote the shadow of Yuugi upon the table. Yuugi, however, only gave the writing a cursory glance before he took another bite of his triple-stacked cheeseburger from the nearby _Meat Goes In Your Face Deliciously! ("Unwieldy Name, Unwieldy Burgers!")_; there were two more similarly sized burgers resting thus far untouched on the plastic tray, as well as the side jug of cola and some fried potatoes. Yuugi had, in the past few days, only consumed a sandwich at the police station, an ice cream cone with Jounouchi, and half of Anzu's bento at school the day before everything went to hell: he was _starving._

On top of that, other than the few hours he'd had on the bus, and however long the surgery had taken, Yuugi had not slept in over sixty hours. It was a surprise he was still functioning.

_And if you're worried about sleep,_ the shadow added on the table, perhaps catching the tail of Yuugi's thought, or perhaps seeing the dark circles of fatigue under his eyes, _then you can sleep while I take us to Titan. Your body won't be weary, I promise._

"I appreciate the sentiment, other me," Yuugi whispered into his burger, glad that the restaurant was mostly deserted, "but sleep back there isn't—" he had to pause for a long yawn, "—isn't the same. I wake up having no idea where I am or what I'm doing, and..."

It wasn't so much that the thought trailed off, as Yuugi's shadow retracted from the table. It was more that Yuugi's mind had conjured an image that Yuugi's thoughts did not articulate into words. After all, not all thought is stream-of-conscious dialog – if one were asked to imagine one's home, one would picture the place in one's mind, not a list of descriptions for it.

The image that had flashed into Yuugi's mind was Sasori Hikari, tumbling over sideways with a blood-soaked dress and a slit throat. If the other Yuugi had a face, he would have scowled.

_Are you still upset about that girl's death?_ asked the voice, the words slanted with distaste, _that you would prefer she had gotten her way and killed you as well?_

_That's not what I meant,_ snipped Yuugi irritably, finishing off his first burger and following it with a chaser of potatoes, _I want to be awake for the journey. I want to wake up in the same place I went to sleep and not discover I'd killed someone in my sleep._

_She killed herself!_ the voice responded angrily. _she lost the Dark Game, and it consumed her mind to the point where she would rather die than face her heart's truth._

_You wouldn't have allowed her to win, would you? There was no possible way for her to win._

_Just because it has never been done before does not mean it cannot be done. You bested the Millennium Puzzle, which has never before been solved._

_That's completely different!_ Yuugi exclaimed within his mind, his outward body showing almost no signs of this inner battle. He began the second burger. _The Puzzle took me eight years to solve. If it followed the rules of your Dark Games, I would have died that first night!_

There was a silence then, in Yuugi's mind, tense and angry and hesitant. If he bothered to look, though, the apathetic clerk behind the counter would only see a really tired kid (probably coming off a drug high, he would think with empathy) eating a cheeseburger. Yuugi chewed slowly, waiting for the voice to argue back, or concede defeat, _something_ to indicate what they were going to do now.

Minutes passed in silence, and Yuugi demolished the second burger, the remaining fried potatoes, almost all of the soda, and two-thirds of the final burger. His stomach was aching in the sudden onslaught of food after such a sparse amount over the previous few days. Finishing the final cheeseburger, Yuugi remained sitting in the booth, waiting patiently.

Finally, the voice responded softly. _If you wish to physically sleep, then you shall sleep._ The anger and ferocity was no longer even remotely present in the voice that echoed in Yuugi's mind and in his ears.

_Thank you,_ replied Yuugi, crumbling up the wrappers. As reluctant as he was to admit it, Yuugi was now rather dependent upon the voice in his mind. Yuugi would not have gotten out of his holding cell, would not have gotten back home, would not have come up with so many plans to cover his tracks without it. Even if Yuugi by himself made it to Titan, he doubted he would be able to make it out of the country with his psyche intact: Yuugi was an easy victim. Thus dependent, Yuugi may have disliked the presence of the voice, but he dared not try to remove it from his mind: without being able to even consider using such removal as a threat against the other Yuugi, he did not think he would be strong enough to fight it off if it tried to forcibly take control of his body once more. Yuugi was completely at the mercy of his shadow. _I only want a couple hours that won't give me motion sickness. We can still leave while it's dark if you prefer. I'm sorry for getting so angry._

"Come back and gorge yourself again!" called the lone clerk, his voice hoarse from the late hour, but neither Yuugi was listening.

_I have overstepped my bounds,_ replied the voice, _and our emotions started feeding into one another again. You have… reminded me of something that I should never have forgotten._

Yuugi tried to stifle his yawn, but still he followed the path that his shadow had begun to lay out before him, pivoting and turning around him like the needle of a compass. Illumination at this late hour had been reduced to the electric white of the restaurant and the gaudy blurred orange of the street lamps. After several minutes passing condemned buildings and empty offices, Yuugi's shadow led him into a narrow alleyway. Yuugi easily collapsed down against one brick wall, and pulling his rucksack onto his lap he curled around the bag. Yuugi's shadow, however, had stretched tall along the opposite wall, and Yuugi knew that should anything happen in the night, that shadow would be there to protect him. So, so tired, Yuugi quickly succumbed to the weight of his fatigue, swiftly going into the welcome darkness of sleep.

* * *

--

* * *

On the front page of the newspaper the following morning was Yuugi's photograph. The accompanying article, Yuugi read from the abandoned paper he nicked from a recycling bin at the bus station minutes before, was an alarmist piece about the crazed "loner kid" who had killed two celebrities and one of his classmates in a plea for attention, before escaping police custody sometime yesterday. It gave a graphic and incorrect account of the crimes committed, and the reporter tried speculating as to how dangerous Yuugi had to be in order to escape from detainment at the police station itself, becoming the first person to ever do so in the history of Domino. Yuugi tried focusing on the comments from 'friends and family of the killer,' but his attention kept going back to his photograph.

It was lined up in a row with the photos of Jounouchi and the Sasori sisters. Their pictures were all taken from school I.D. cards (though it looked as though the Sasoris' had gone through a touch-up first), while Yuugi's was his mug shot from his short stay in detention. There was nothing in particular about the photograph that actually identified it as a mug shot, something that surprised Yuugi, but he recognized it all the same. His eyes were puffed and dark from crying, but enough time had passed that he wasn't actively doing so.

For some reason, the Yuugi in the picture was smiling. He didn't look particularly happy, but the lips were upturned in irony. The two girls, of course, had photographs that looked as though ripped from magazines even if they obviously weren't, made up in all their fame-spoiled pomp: perfect white teeth and eyes visibly open, smiles perfectly crafted to move as few muscles as possible. Finally, there was Jounouchi, looking sour and impatient. This picture had been taken long before he and Yuugi had become friends, and the tightness of his face and the disarray of his hair almost screamed out the truth of his gang roots.

Yuugi turned his gaze from that photo quickly, not wanting to lose his memory of a smiling, laughing friend to the image of an ill-caught boy he barely knew.

**Yuugi Mutou, left, and his three victims—**

"Wait," muttered Yuugi, glancing at the pictures again: Yuugi, Hikari, Hebi, Jounouchi—

**Mutou, left—**

Yuugi closed his eyes and shook softly with what may have been laughter.

Yuugi's picture was on the _right_. Whoever had written the tagline had attached his name, the _killer's name_, to the photo of _Jounouchi_. This was one of the top selling papers in the nation – and anyone using this as their source of information would connect Yuugi (should they recognize him) with the photo of a _victim_ and dismiss him instantly, for _obviously_ he wasn't dead and therefore couldn't be connected to the crime.

Yuugi lowered the paper and peered conspiringly at his shadow. "I think this buys us a free day of travel," he said quietly, knowing that no one else was near his little stakeout at this corner lamppost, "since no one's looking for _me_. Should we risk the bus?"

The shadow, after a moment, nodded and slowly waved a trail of words from its right hand. _The risk is low,_ wrote the shadow Yuugi, _but how much money remains?_

"Enough for a bus ticket," Yuugi recalled, "and maybe a couple days of food, if I stretch it. I think that punk overcharged me." Just thinking about those gargantuan burgers made Yuugi's stomach gurgle, though he wasn't sure if it was hunger for more, or a protest at being forced to digest so much of the stuff in one go.

Another wave. _That's not much._ Yuugi adjusted the rucksack on his one good shoulder: when he had woken up, his wound had already been redressed. He sighed, surveying their surroundings.

It was just after seven in the morning, so the sun still hung low in the sky. There was only a trickle of commuters down the often-busy road. Although a weekday, the rush of businessmen had already passed, or still had hours before they needed to arrive at their destinations. The bus station was old and gray; its windows were filmed with cigarette smoke and dried sweat. The bus stop that Yuugi approached then – serving routes more pedestrian than the charter he had ridden the day previous – was labeled with many numbers and brief descriptions of their destinations. To Jenga, Tic-Tac-Tokyo, Kismet, Simon's way, and there! To Titan, bus 34, arriving every half hour. Since it was a local bus, the fare would only be a handful of yen, cheaper than even one of his cheeseburgers the night before.

The wait and the ride each were uneventful, if one discounted the six games of in-hand solitaire Yuugi played that prompted an elderly woman sitting in the elderly person section of the bus to call him over to sit beside her. After a short, pleasant, and completely unremarkable conversation about buses, knitting, and card games, the woman pressed upon Yuugi a small wad of yen – maybe enough to buy a cigarette lighter and a couple sodas. He tried rejecting the offer, but the woman just waved him off, not even giving him her name, and she hobbled off the bus looking for all the world like an injured deer.

Finally the bus pulled into the final terminal, and with alert eyes Yuugi took in the battered, late morning skyline of Titan.

They had reached the edge of the board.

* * *

--

* * *

The city of Titan, Yuugi's grandfather had told him years ago, was initially designed as the ultimate War Game city. In its younger days, before it had exploded in popularity, population, and crime, Titan had been very distinctly divided into eleven separate districts, each named for the type of landscape it was meant to represent. Although the boundaries of these districts overlapped slightly in the subsequent years, the names still stuck. Japan didn't have a natural tundra or desert as far as Yuugi could recall, but the districts weren't named precisely this way: each was meant to contain something reminiscent of that landscape, like the Plains were primarily residential, while the Hills were famed for their golf courses and trillion-yen homes.

"Actually," Grandpa had said, "only ten are actual 'districts,' like in regular cities. The eleventh is a building. When I lived in Titan in my youth, the Tower was the central government building – mayor, police, all that, but now..."

Though Yuugi had asked, his grandfather could not tell him who ruled the Tower – power over the building changed hands so quickly that it was useless to keep track unless one actually lived in the city. The Tower stood at least twenty stories taller than any other building in the city, and was visible from almost everywhere.

At the moment, Yuugi was caught in the shadow of the Tower as he moved swiftly through the Desert district's street market. The market was large, loud, and dirtier than the Domino police force. Everywhere Yuugi looked were cramped stands hawking everything imaginable: foods, clothes, books, electronics, kitschy crafts, musical instruments, jewelry, games, tarot readings, flowers, and a myriad of other things Yuugi was pretty sure were illegal. The street was cramped and crowded on this weekday afternoon, and Yuugi had to tighten his rucksack strap on his single shoulder, the other strap wrapped around his opposite elbow. Earlier the voice had persuaded Yuugi to move the obsidian knife from in the bag to on his person, so now the knife was horizontally pressed flat to his stomach, pinned there by his tight pants and belt. He was probably going to wind up stabbing himself, or at least getting splinters from the obsidian – he _really_ needed to get a sheath for it, and soon.

Yuugi could not see his shadow, but he knew that it was circling around him underfoot. They were both searching for that one thing— there! Through the sea of sound he heard it, young and streetwise.

"Come on, press your luck! Simple game of chance, easy as killing a man in the Wasteland!" The shell game.

The last time Yuugi had seen a real shell game was years ago, when he and his mother had gone to pick Grandfather up at the airport. All things considered he'd been surprised that his mother would take him along, but in any case there had been a punk kid playing dice games near an ATM. When Yuugi had called him out on the fact that his dice had counterweights, Yuugi had to run all the way across the terminal and hide behind a rolling coffee cart to avoid getting brained by the punk.

This time, Yuugi knew that he could very well win any game for hours straight, but Yuugi's talent at games was suspicious, and he didn't really want to draw too much attention to himself on his first day in the city – especially not if it meant forcing the other Yuugi to act. Two or three rounds should be enough to get him a sheath and a place to stay the night.

"Try your fortune at the simplest of games!" cried the man, early in his twenties, as he shuffled a deck of playing cards, "anyone!"

"I'll play you," said Yuugi, approaching the table that was really only a piece of plywood balanced on some milk crates. The other guy – his eyes rimmed red in fatigue, or drug use, or ridiculous conceptions of proper application of eye makeup – looked over Yuugi with a smile of pearly, jagged teeth.

"Sure thing, kid, Slap down some cash and play away, double or nothing." The man flicked through his deck with practiced speed, skillfully flicking four cards to skid across the plywood. Yuugi placed a hand over the cards, straightening them without thought.

"What's the game?"

"Simple matching, fifty-fifty shot," said the other, gesturing to the cards under Yuugi's palm. The background hustle seemed to lower to almost nothing in Yuugi's ears. "Check 'em. Four aces: two red, two black. You segregate 'em, you win."

Yuugi picked up the cards, noticing the way his shadow was cast upon the table, knowing both that his natural shadow _should_ be cast to his left, and that the other Yuugi was lurking there on the pale plywood. A glance at the cards – all suits represented, no telling markings on the backs – and Yuugi spared another look to the shadow. Why was it on the table? Did— would the other Yuugi try to help Yuugi win by _cheating?_ Yuugi scowled.

Yuugi pulled out his dwindled supply of money and placed it on the table. The red-eyed man didn't even look at the currency and just began quickly shuffling the four cards in his hand so swiftly that, had Yuugi tried watching to track the order, he would have gotten a headache. Instead, Yuugi placed his hands on the table, on his shadow, and thought softly, _don't help me._

The shadow wrote a response, but Yuugi didn't read it. "We both know the odds here aren't half-shot," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, "so how about we even the chances?"

The dealer looked up at Yuugi warily, his eyes and reddening ears making him look a bit like a panda in the wrong colors, his shuffling slowing. "You play this game before?" Yuugi shrugged, but it was forced, and the movement only told Yuugi how tense his own shoulders were getting under the bluff.

"Something like it, only it used dice," he said, trying to sound nonchalant but probably failing. Maybe it would be better to not be so calm, though, in case the red panda of a dealer decided Yuugi was trying to cheat him? The Panda smiled with his crooked teeth.

"All right kid, what game do you want to play?"

Yuugi shook his head. "Same game, new rule." Panda started shuffling the cards, though slower as he listened. "You put down the four cards in any order you want, but you have to know where you're putting them," Yuugi said, "then I pick two cards. I flip one of those two cards, and of the two cards I didn't choose, you flip a card that doesn't match my suit. You with me so far?" The Panda nodded. "After that, I have the option of staying with the second card I picked, or switching to the face-down card I didn't pick."

The Panda stared at him, the red across his eyes obviously makeup in the fierce calculation Yuugi now saw in his completely alert gaze.

"Like on those old American game shows," Yuugi said quickly, "where they have to guess which door hides the car, when there's three choices?"

The Panda visibly relaxed. "Sure, kid, but it doesn't help your odds any." The Panda glanced at the faces of the cards for a second before spreading them out in a line across the plywood. Yuugi tapped the two cards on the left with his eyes closed, studiously ignoring the words the shadow had written upon the table. Yuugi flipped the card on his far left.

_You were controlling the game with the Sasoris, weren't you?_ Yuugi thought, glancing at the cards. The card he had flipped was the ace of clubs, on the farthest left; the Panda had flipped the ace of diamonds on the farthest right. "I am matching by color, right?" Yuugi asked as he tapped the card to the immediate left of the diamond, not the card he had previously indicated, "so I need the spade?"

The Red Panda, his ears having returned to their original hue but the title refusing to leave, laughed with his hand steady over the card. "What, afraid I'll cheat you on something like that? Yes, you match colors, so you win this round," he said as he flipped over the ace of spades. "Lucky shot."

The Panda snatched Yuugi's cash, but it was obvious he wasn't going to make off with it. It was, after all, a mediocre amount for Titan, and the Panda just as quickly handed it back and followed it with another stack of yen. Yuugi quickly counted, determining it was the full double.

The Panda began shuffling again. "Lucky shot, you wanna try again? Same game?"

Yuugi smirked. "Sure." Again, the four cards came down, and again Yuugi chose the two on the left, again flipping the farthest left. Ace of spades. The dealer, after a moment of hesitation, flipped the second from the right, the ace of hearts. Yuugi nodded, and tapped the card he'd already selected, the one to the immediate right of his black ace. He had seen the dealer's hesitation before selecting the card, and how his hand had seemingly gone to that far right card in habit, as if he had been mentally replaying the previous round to 'suddenly realize' that the far right card was Yuugi's suit. Yuugi easily saw through the trap, and the fact the dealer underestimated him. The Panda swore when he flipped the ace of clubs.

"One more round," demanded the Panda, his ears once again flaming red as he flicked across to Yuugi a much larger wad of cash. Yuugi had already quadrupled his money; he really didn't need to play any more today. Not for pride. Yuugi looked down to the table and watched as his shadow flailed for attention, all his words trailing requests for Yuugi to play again. Yuugi shook his head. Even though he knew he would win – without the shadow's help – Yuugi rejected the temptation. He simply took up the money and walked away.

* * *

--

* * *

Yuugi's shadow was pouting. Yuugi was hastening through the market, the crowd thicker than before with releases from nearby schools swarming the streets like locusts. He'd found a sturdy leather sheath for the obsidian knife, thick and tough and probably made from the hide of some great African beast; Yuugi was pretty sure it was illegal to own. It had taken a good chunk of his winnings, but nowhere near an exorbitant amount. The sun hung low in the sky, unseen behind the monstrous towering buildings stretching shadows long across the pavement, inching slowly like melting ice across a warm skillet. Like the needle of a compass, Yuugi's shadow pointed west, and pouted.

Compass needles don't normally pout, of course, but shadows rarely ever point _towards_ the sun, so Yuugi was getting used to this sort of thing.

He'd thankfully made it out of the crowd, dodging down surprisingly bare streets in search of a hostel or a café, somewhere cheap to stay the night and not get robbed blind. He hoped that anyone who overheard him speaking would simply think he was very good at hiding one of those bulky portable phones.

"Are you upset that I quit playing?" Yuugi asked, turning right down a side street, his shadow spinning north to lead. Yuugi's head remained steady, but its shadow visibly nodded. Yuugi sighed.

"If I kept playing, he probably would have freaked out. I'd rather not get into a fight my first day here and lose everything."

Yuugi watched his shadow as it cocked its head in attention before striking a pose of battle, hunched and poised and quite suddenly wielding shadows of both a sword and shield. Yuugi rolled his eyes.

"Oh, you'd protect me, would you?" The shadow nodded again, twirling its sword before both it and the shield disappeared. Yuugi's lips certainly did not quirk in a smile. If they did, they were instantly weighed down with worry anyway, so it wouldn't have mattered.

"I'd rather not provoke someone to the point where I would need protecting in the first place," Yuugi said, pushing down his sorrow as far as he could, knowing that if he thought too much on this he'd probably wind up crying _again,_ and tears could wait until he could seal them in a musty motel pillow.

As if the thought had conjured it, a neon sign flickered to life a little ways down the road, proclaiming vacancy in an establishment called the "Why Yes, We Do Wash Our Linens!" motel. Yuugi wondered briefly if all the good short names had already been taken. Continuing down the road, Yuugi entered the small motel.

Despite the building's dingy brown, weather-beaten exterior, the lobby was rather well-lit with white light, perfectly illuminating the non-threatening cream colors of the converted formerly residential sitting room. Small and western-style, the room was methodically arranged to suit the needs more of isolated strangers than of family members, for each of the three small couches were spaced several feet apart – though all still faced the currently dark gas-powered fireplace. Small end tables stood near each leather armrest, each bearing a neatly folded newspaper, and the image oddly struck Yuugi as being like young children sent clean and proper to their distant fathers in an effort to win affection and approval.

On the opposite wall from the fireplace was the staircase to the upper floor, an unaccommodating thing with steps of cobbled stone, obviously meant to be cold and punishing to anyone who dared descend those stairs in winter bare of slippers. Yuugi saw two empty doorways, probably leading to a kitchen and a bathroom, with kitschy English phrases carved in painted wood hanging neatly over each threshold.

Letting the door click shut behind him, Yuugi quickly kicked out of his trainers, sliding the dirty things against the wall to accompany the assortment of shoes already resting there. As he put on a pair of house slippers, Yuugi was surprised to see grass stuck to some of the tennis shoes in the pile, considering where he was in Titan: Grandfather, when explaining the city, had easily categorized what each district specialized in. The Forest had all the standard city exhibits like museums and zoos, while the Grasslands had all the nature parks and schools; the Tundra was the business district, the Wasteland was the slums. The street market had been in the Desert, and Yuugi guessed that this motel was in the Mountains: from what he remembered hearing from Grandfather, neither of these areas had any sort of natural grass anywhere within their boundaries.

Shrugging this off, Yuugi approached the desk near the base of the stairs, a dark and sturdy thing with solid paneling to the ground, probably for hiding easily accessible weapons in case of robbery. A small silver press-bell sat merrily on the desk, buffed and shining despite its obvious age and frequent usage – not a trace of sweat or fingerprints marred Yuugi's curved and distorted reflection.

He flushed with guilt when he rang it, and even knowing how utterly stupid a reaction that was didn't help. Shortly, a young woman entered from the presumed kitchen, a dishtowel on her hands and a powder-dusted black apron around her waist. The woman smiled, and though they looked nothing alike Yuugi was reminded fiercely of his mother. His body ached in the sudden wave of homesickness.

"Good afternoon," said the woman, her voice as high and cheery as the now sweat-smeared bell on the desk, which gave another little chirrup when she absently wiped it with the towel, "how can I help you, young man?"

Yuugi smiled back, trying to hide his discomfort with the young matron. God, he just wanted to see his mother again—

"Yeah, I wanted to rent a room, and I saw the vacancy sign—"

"All we have left are singles," she said, opening and flipping through a tall leather notebook, the slap of stiff pages accentuating the quiet of the room.

"That's fine," Yuugi said, digging through his pocket for his remaining winnings, "Ah, how much per night?" Yuugi hoped it wouldn't take too long to jump ship, so it would be easier to just pay as he stayed rather than go for a week or so at a time.

Money changed hand – there went most of Yuugi's cash, and he was thankful that his stay included meals. The woman handed him a small key with an orange tag. "Yours is the second door on the left-hand side," she said as Yuugi pocketed the key, "meals are at seven and seven. If you need anything, just let me know, I'm usually in the kitchen. I'm Yamafuku Miyako."

Yuugi gave a polite bow, but his mind was racing. In all this time, no one had asked him for a name, so he hadn't yet bothered to come up with an alias. _Shit!_ It wasn't like he could use his own name, either of them; they were both too uncommon and weird.

"Ah, thank you, Yamafuku-san," he said, stalling, "My name is—" _Common last name! Think think think,_ "Honda." (He wouldn't mind if Yuugi borrowed his name, would he? Actually, he'd probably kill Yuugi for everything— focus!)

The matron was laughing gaily, a motherly chuckle as she shook her head. "I need your given name, little Honda-kun, unless you want to pay for Honda Kenji-san's room and board, too?"

The only thing Yuugi could think of was the Red Panda dealer from earlier, and even Yuugi thought that 'Honda Panda' was a bit ridiculous, what with the rhyming and all, and that shell game from the airport with the—

"Saikoro. Honda Saikoro." She stopped chuckling, looking him over, and her eyes lingered on his waist. _Oh no,_ thought Yuugi, _the knife!_ What if she kicked him out for illegal weapon possession, and didn't refund his deposit? _Dammit all._

"So you're a gambler then, Honda-kun?" _What?_ She was looking at the deck pouch on his belt. Right.

"Hard not to, in Titan," he said with a shrug, silently praying she wouldn't kick him out, "and with a name like Saikoro. But I prefer playing for fun," he added with a small smile, "since it's hard to be friends with other players when they feel betrayed by you winning."

The matron smiled and chuckled again, wagging a finger at Yuugi. "Maybe it's your cocky attitude, Honda-kun, that makes them angry?"

"No," said Yuugi, heading up the staircase and pausing to lean over the wrought iron railing, calling down, "it's definitely them being sore losers."

The matron's laughter followed him the rest of the way upstairs, and Yuugi felt his shadow slide under the room door as Yuugi fiddled with the lock itself. If her laughter continued after that, Yuugi wasn't sure for two reasons. The first, and obvious one, was that once he made it inside the room, before even dropping his rucksack, Yuugi closed and locked the door, thereby muffling the sound beyond. The second reason was that, once Yuugi turned to face the room itself, all his attention was focused on the shadow-mannequin boy waiting for him, gradually gaining hue the longer he sat on the edge of the western-style bed.

No active thought process remained to Yuugi to listen for the woman's fading laughter, for his brain was trying to not shut down completely as the semi-transparent boy formed before him, the pattern of the orange coverlet distorting the ghost's appearance. Yuugi remembered seeing this happen once before, but even through everything that had happened, Yuugi had thought he'd dreamed that part.

Yuugi was perfectly willing to accept that he was crazy. He was pretty sure insanity wasn't supposed to give a person the ability to walk through walls.

The other boy did not seem to think that being less than completely opaque was anything out of the ordinary, for he simply looked at Yuugi with a mildly puzzled expression on his ghostly face.

"Are you all right, _aibou?_" asked the other boy, and suddenly this strange occurrence didn't seem quite so strange (though the semi-transparency was much more freakish and frightening in a well-lit room).

Yuugi swallowed whatever organ it was that had crawled into his throat, and he said with a stutter, "oth-other me?"


	7. in which Yuugi has his breakdown

_**Sight the King**_  
07/21  
"in which Yuugi has his breakdown"

* * *

**_even his mother can't discern his name._**

* * *

The other boy in the room, who looked more like a ghost than a living person, tried to flop backwards onto the bed. Being less substantial than a person, the boy somewhat flopped _through_ the bed for a moment before settling atop the mattress. With a very quiet mutter Yuugi could not catch, the other propped himself up by his elbows, at which point he smirked at Yuugi. His teeth were just as transparent as the rest of him.

"In the flesh," he replied, his voice seeming to have long forgotten the uncomfortable cracks of puberty that Yuugi still suffered, the other's voice smoother and deeper than Yuugi's though not by much. He laughed, or made a noise that could in some strange universe be taken as a laugh: short and dark and somewhat bitter. "Keh, as close as I can get right now, anyway," he added, his gaze still fixed on Yuugi.

Yuugi quickly took in the details of his mostly-visible companion, his eyes needing something to do while his mind and body recovered from shock to mantras of _You've already seen him do this before, right? Right? Yes. Why am I freaking out? Ghost. Right. Not a dream._ The other was dressed as Yuugi was that day – the dirty, not quite school uniform pants and blazer, looking bizarre with the design of the pattern of the blanket staining through it all. On the other's chest rested a ghost of Yuugi's Millennium Puzzle, the insubstantial bottom point of which seemed to point at Yuugi like a pendulum having dowsed for water or precious metals. Like Yuugi, the other boy wore a dark choker around his neck, though its blackness was not as intimidating in its inconstancy.

Most of these features were the same as the last time Yuugi saw the other in this form (though Yuugi's mind had convinced him it had been a dream, so the second exposure was no less jarring), but there were some differences. The other was no longer covered in blood, just as Yuugi was not; the other's hair had also been cropped short and colored, the red strands spiking out loosely like fire, a more sinister blaze Yuugi had never seen. Like Yuugi, the other boy too had the poorly shaved roots of bleached-blond edging his hairline like a row of harvested grain.

Although their features were similar there, too, it was in the other's face that Yuugi saw the most difference. Their noses and cheeks, eyebrows, ears, all that was nearly identical; even the cut of their chins and the shapes of their mouths were the same. It was the eyes of the other, and only there, that Yuugi saw the difference between this ghost and a photograph. The other's eyes were narrower, darker, bitter and cruel, and Yuugi couldn't help but be reminded of knives, warmed only by someone else's blood. He shivered.

Yuugi's brain had finally gotten used to the idea that he was (hopefully? possibly? please?) hallucinating, and started gearing up for rational thought once more. It decided to swing back into coherency by stating the obvious.

"You're... somewhat transparent," Yuugi said, his gaze still wary. The other Yuugi sat up fully once more with a nod.

"I'd noticed," he said wryly, his voice full of dark amusement. Yuugi finally released his grip on the locked doorknob and cautiously approached the bed.

"So..." Yuugi started, nervously, a thousand questions running through his head, "are you a ghost?"

Yuugi sat on the bed next to the other Yuugi, leaving enough room between them for a whole other person. If he reached over, Yuugi could touch the other's transparent form, but Yuugi did not know if he would actually _touch_ anything other than air if he did so. Yuugi kept his hands against the bed.

The other shrugged. "Probably. I'm not precisely sure." His already narrow eyes thinned further in query as they gazed at Yuugi. "Does that matter?"

Yuugi felt intimidated by that dark stare, even if he could see the opposite wall and a shoddy painting of children playing in a field through the other boy's head.

"No... I guess not," Yuugi said after a moment, turning his gaze away from the other. It was much too weird, trying to focus his eyes just yet. "Even if... even if you're a ghost, you don't frighten me." _Liar!_ Yuugi accused to himself, glad that the other would not hear the thought.

And he did not, for the other Yuugi only gave a little 'keh' of amusement. "Most people who meet me don't have time to develop proper fright," he said, and though the harsh grin he wore was short-lived it made Yuugi think of B-movie villains. Yuugi shook the thought away, looking again at the other.

"Should I be afraid of you, other me?" Yuugi asked quietly, his hands clutching at the blanket. He wasn't scared – he wasn't! if he said he wasn't enough times, it would be true, right? – but the other Yuugi had sounded so harsh...

He didn't laugh this time. "Never," the other replied, his voice unusually soft, "you must never fear me. I will not harm you."

Yuugi forced himself to smile, releasing the blankets. He let his hands come up to cradle the Millennium Puzzle. "I'm... I'm glad," he said, confused and awkward and shy but mainly confused, "because I... want to be friends with you."

Without a word in response the other Yuugi stood, his focus entirely elsewhere as he crossed the room to the far wall dividing the room from the hallway. His stride was confident and powerful, like that of a general or a wolf, his stance tall and unconsciously proud. Yuugi instantly envied that stride.

The other Yuugi walked out of the room – straight _through the door_ and out into the hallway. A second passed; part of Yuugi, the part that was still trying to be rational, was fixed on the fact that the other Yuugi walked through the door, passing through the wood as easily as air, and though he should have expected it, that part of Yuugi was relapsing into mild shock and knowing that he really shouldn't be at this point. The other part of him feared that the other was _leaving_, rejecting Yuugi's half-hearted offer of friendship, and for a split second Yuugi's entire body clenched in terror.

The second passed; the other had re-entered the room, and was now sitting on the bed once more, much closer to Yuugi than before. "I heard a noise," the other tried to explain, even as Yuugi's jaw was still operating like a broken well pump, rising and falling without result, "but it was nothing of consequence."

His fear of sudden abandonment abated, the rational part of Yuugi's mind took over once more. Despite the fact the other was without a doubt not composed of flesh and blood and crazy amounts of hair dye like Yuugi, and that he spent much of his time prior to this controlling Yuugi's shadow and whispering in the back of Yuugi's mind but having evidently been borne from Yuugi's completion of the Pyramid of God, the whole 'walking through walls' bit was a tad too much for Yuugi to handle. Even though it logically was a useless move that should just confirm the other boy's status as a ghost, (though perhaps he only did it for reassurance that the other was _there_,) Yuugi reached over and tentatively brushed his fingers across the other Yuugi's cheek.

If the other Yuugi were a ghost, Yuugi's hand should have passed through that cheek, with little or no sensation of feeling for either of them. This did not happen, for the other Yuugi was not a ghost in the more traditional sense.

If the other Yuugi were a normal person like Yuugi, Yuugi's fingers should have easily come into contact with the other Yuugi's soft, Yuugi-mimicking cheek, and the nerve endings in Yuugi's hands would have sent sensory feedback information to Yuugi's brain identifying the feel of warm skin and the light touch of nearly invisible hair as that of a human cheek. Similarly, were the other Yuugi a normal person, haptic signals would have been sent from the other Yuugi's cheek to the other Yuugi's brain, detailing the slightly rough sensation of Yuugi's fingertips and the slightest bit of dampness indicating Yuugi's nervous sweat, identifying the touch. This is not quite what happened, for the other Yuugi is not quite a normal person.

While it is true that when Yuugi's hand went to the other's cheek, Yuugi felt solid human flesh beneath his fingertips, and while it is also true that the other Yuugi felt this slightly nervous caress upon his face, there is something that should be noted:

Yuugi's hand was touching the other's cheek. They could see this. They knew this is what was happening. Their brains, however, claimed that the other Yuugi was also touching Yuugi's cheek. This was not the case. Both of the other Yuugi's hands, after all, appeared to be resting on the bed (though this too was not technically true, as the other Yuugi could just as easily push his hands through the mattress without any resistance). Other than the sensation that had a cause on the other Yuugi's cheek, and the phantom sensation that had no logical source in his fingers, the other Yuugi felt nothing at all.

To correct this obvious error of sensation without cause, the other Yuugi brought up his malfunctioning hand and gently touched Yuugi's likewise confused cheek.

It was sudden, it was powerful, and Yuugi nearly started screaming. He was an electrical wire in a fresh circuit, sensation passing through him, looping and growing out of control like a virus, the sense of touch escalating and multiplying with each passing heartbeat, as though his skin were burning fresh and new under the soft pressure of flesh, as though he had a thousand fingertips touching a thousand faces, and though a thousand sets of fingertips were caressing his thousands of faces. His nerves were ablaze. His mind was reeling. His sense of feeling was burning out and he could not feel anything else, not even the bed upon which he sat.

Yuugi had never felt anything this... this _wonderful_ in his entire life. If this was just fingers and faces, imagine entire hands! Or kissing! Or, or, or—

Yuugi ripped and pulled, flinging himself backwards, breaking the loop. He fell upon his back, eyes spinning from dizziness, his heartbeat erratic and his breathing ragged and labored. A couple moments passed, and once Yuugi was no longer choking to breathe he sat up, gazing to the other Yuugi.

The other looked to have yanked away at the same moment, for he was haphazardly sprawled on and through the far edge of the bed, limbs akimbo and hanging into air, where they did not fall into the mattress. Yuugi shifted closer, but made no move to touch the other again. The other Yuugi, though still appearing disoriented, gazed up at Yuugi.

"What... what the hell was that?" Yuugi asked on a breath, his voice full of wonder and fear, his hands shaking. The other Yuugi blinked, slowly, as though he hadn't heard. Yuugi touched his own cheek, his skin still sensitized and tingling under the contact. "I've never felt anything like that," he whispered, drawing his hand away and staring at his hand. He did not think that he was expecting to see it glow or anything, but _something_ had happened to it and Yuugi couldn't tell if he wanted to repeat the experience, or to repeat it forever.

"I haven't felt anything _but_ that," whispered the other, "unless I was... you." The other sat up, pulling his limbs straight and somehow appearing to balance on the mattress itself. Yuugi released a shuddering sigh, pushing himself backwards until he was propped against the adjacent wall.

"Well, normal touch doesn't feel _anything_ like that," he explained, letting his eyes fall shut. "Not even pain is that intense."

"Did I hurt you?" asked the other, quietly, and Yuugi quickly shook his head.

"Surprise, yes, but it didn't hurt." _Lies again_, Yuugi thought, but something hurting and something being painful didn't always mean the same thing. _You can think of other things that hurt but feel good, right? Like—_ Yuugi fought down the flush and the thought fiercely. "Though why that was so... urgh, I can't even _describe_ it!"

There was a pause. "... remember the hospital?" asked the other, slowly, cautiously, "when we both grieved?"

Yuugi nodded in sadness, though the grief was numb. "I felt like I was going to drown," he said honestly. "I've never felt that sad before, not even when my father—" Yuugi stopped, focusing on that matter at hand, when their emotions had begun feeding on one another. "Wait, you mean... whenever we feel the same – emotionally, physically – we... amplify?"

The other Yuugi paused for a moment, contemplative, before he nodded in agreement. He turned to Yuugi with a look of fierce concentration etched into his copied features. "I'm not sure why, but... whatever you feel, I feel, and... I leak back to you?" This was just as confusing for the other Yuugi, at least. Yuugi frowned.

"And then we just keep doubling?"

"And it grows taller and deeper the longer we feel, it seems." The other Yuugi shifted, so he sat with his back 'pressed against' the wall next to Yuugi, though there was still space between them. "Your emotions always affect me," he whispered.

Yuugi shuddered, curling around the Puzzle in worry. "You... you can't expect me to just turn off my emotions," he said, his voice shaking. "You can't! I can't! I'll... I'll..."

"Never!" said the other Yuugi harshly, nearly on top of Yuugi but careful not to touch him, "Precious _aibou_ shall not shatter his merciful heart for me. Shatter the Puzzle first!"

"I can't!" Yuugi cried, clutching the Puzzle more tightly, still stained with blood, as though the other Yuugi would force the item from him. "I can't do this by myself! You... you've protected me, and my friends, you're—" Yuugi had to clench his eyes shut, because he didn't want to cry anymore, he didn't, he didn't, but wishing had only worked once, hadn't it?

Very slowly, Yuugi felt the palm of a hand cup his cheek. It was soft, and warm, and fingertips trailed gently into his hairline. Yuugi felt a phantom cheek under his own hand, but he fought the urge to complete the circuit.

Yuugi placed his hand – the one in error, feeling a cheek against Yuugi's bare skin – on the forearm of the other. The sense of feedback seemed to fade, and Yuugi opened his eyes.

The other Yuugi was staring at Yuugi, but it was one look Yuugi had never seen before: the other's eyes were hooded, and dark, and his breathing labored. "You must destroy me," he whispered, his voice almost weak in agony, "if inaction would shatter your precious heart."

Under the caress, Yuugi shook his head and tightened his grip on the other's arm. "I can't lose anyone else," he whispered, feeling tears on his own thumb before he realized the other was wiping them away. "I don't want to be alone."

The truth of his fear revealed, Yuugi kept trying to clench his eyes shut against their weakness. He was still scared of this other Yuugi – scared of what the other had done, what the other could do, _would_ do. He was scared of the other's anger and his power and all the ways he could hurt anyone around him. He was scared that the other didn't actually exist – that he really was just hallucinations and multiple personality.

But most of all, beyond all that, Yuugi was scared of being abandoned. His father had died when Yuugi was still young – a shooting at the airport after his last trip abroad, he'd been caught in police crossfire, and after being labeled as 'collateral damage' not one of the officers involved in his death were penalized in any way. Yuugi had never been able to make friends in school, other than Anzu, until he met Jounouchi – but then _he_ got shot, too. (What was it with people Yuugi caring about and getting shot? Honestly!)

And now – now, Yuugi was pretty much on the other side of the country than his family, soon to be leaving for _forever_, never to see his mother or grandfather again, and it hadn't hit him before but Yuugi _didn't have anyone left._

Yuugi was shaking again, wasn't he? He was sick of crying, sick of feeling this miserable, sick of how quickly his life had just gone to shit, he didn't even know how many days it had been – not even a week!

But the other Yuugi was there, not saying anything at first but combing his hand through Yuugi's short red hair, the other hand holding his shoulder, and even though Yuugi wanted to so badly he couldn't risk what might happen if he tried just hugging the other.

"_Aibou_..." the other whispered softly, cupping Yuugi's chin. Yuugi grudgingly opened his eyes to meet the other's gaze. Although Yuugi could see the far wall through the other's face, he was glad there was a face at all. The other squeezed his shoulder once more. "I want you to close your eyes, and count to ten."

Yuugi couldn't help the shuddering laugh-shake-sob. "What, are we playing hi-hide and seek?" The other shook his head, looking sad but much more controlled than Yuugi.

"After ten, open your eyes. All right?" Shaking, Yuugi nodded, and let his eyes fall closed once more. He tried to suppress the pang of literal blind panic when the other Yuugi pulled away, taking all looped sensations of touch with him, but Yuugi kept his eyes clenched tightly shut.

It was a full twenty seconds later before Yuugi could work up the courage to open his eyes, his fears realized: the other Yuugi was nowhere to be seen.

Shaking, Yuugi crawled forward on the mattress, hoping against hope that he had just disappeared behind a door, or was hiding beneath the bed or in the walls to scare him, but still nothing save his shadow flailing on the—

Oh, right.

Yuugi turned his stare to his shadow on the wall, bewildered. Why would the other Yuugi retreat to that form? When the other Yuugi was a shadow, they could not share thoughts, and the shadow could not audibly speak; what comfort could this provide? But as Yuugi watched his shadow move, and shift on the wall, he saw.

If he hadn't been crying before, he would have started now.

Like earlier, when the shadow had been able to alter its form by donning weaponry, or the way it was able to trail words behind its movement, the other Yuugi had begun manipulating the shadows on the wall. Plural.

As Yuugi watched, Yuugi began recognizing the silhouettes the other Yuugi was mimicking, recognizing the memories upon which the other was drawing. Yuugi watched as the shadows on the wall imitated the shape of his grandfather, spiky hair sticking out under the round of his bandanna, his aged profile smiling as he knelt down to a shorter shadow – Yuugi's silhouette at the age of seven – and handed him a small box. In a swirl they changed, and it was the dark shadow of Yuugi's mother, tending to a wound on a young Yuugi's arm, yet both shapes were laughing silently. There, Anzu dancing; there, Honda holding a box filled with cardboard puzzle pieces; there, Yuugi's father with Yuugi riding on his shoulders.

There, Jounouchi and Yuugi eating ice cream.

Although the shadows trailed no words behind them, and though the other Yuugi could not speak directly into Yuugi's mind, Yuugi heard the meaning.

_Being physically alone does not mean you have been abandoned_, said the silhouette of Yuugi attempting to piece together the Millennium Puzzle. _That they have left mortal life does not mean they have left you_, said the shadow of Yuugi's father teaching Yuugi how to read. _It is what you can see that cannot be seen_, whispered Jounouchi to Yuugi in a school hallway before he ran off embarrassed.

Though it was not the other's intent, Yuugi saw some other truth in the shadows on the wall. _Though I am but shadows and insubstantial things_, it said, _though I am not the company you wish to keep, though I am but a poor substitute – I will be here for you_.

Curling on his side, Yuugi continued watching the shadow play of his life on the wall, his sorrow eventually fading (once the other had gotten into the more embarrassing moments, Yuugi couldn't help but feel both amused and mortified), and by the time Yuugi covered himself in blankets and prepared to sleep, the shadow once more returning to him, Yuugi felt something he had not since the whole mess began:

At ease.

* * *


	8. in which Yuugi is occasionally thwarted

**Sight the King**  
08/21  
"in which Yuugi is occasionally thwarted"

* * *

**_His glory is in the sky, his strength lies in the horizon_**

* * *

The days spent wandering Titan were long, informative, but ultimately led to many dead ends. For a city that was seething with crime, Yuugi was finding it unexpectedly difficult to smuggle himself out of the country. His first stop had, of course, been the district of Marsh, which was the only district connected to Titan's vast waterfront. Yuugi spent almost five whole days going up and down the coast, gambling and bribing smugglers and kidnappers to give him passage on a vessel to China, but nothing seemed to work. Several times Yuugi had been promised a place on a ship and given a time to arrive, but by the time he got to the dock in question on these occasions, either the boat was already gone, the boat would be on fire, or the boat had been hijacked and whomever it was Yuugi had dealt with was being dumped into the murky ocean waters (to this last, Yuugi didn't wait around to find out if the new captains would be willing to take him aboard).

Criminals, it seemed, were becoming increasingly unreliable. After the third fire, they decided Yuugi would probably have better luck with someone who wasn't a drug lord. This turned out to not be the case either.

"Look kid," said one such not-quite-smuggler to Yuugi, a behemoth of a man covered in scars, burns, and tattoos of obscene cartoon characters, and with hair as white and unkempt as the breaking sea foam. "The only way you're gettin' outta the Marsh by boat 'sif you've got the Titan's say-so."

"... I have to get permission from the city?" Yuugi asked with a frown. His gaze drifted over the numerous boats on the pier, and the dozens of unwashed sailors working under the fog-shrouded sun. "I thought Titan was all about crime and lawlessness."

"Not Titan," said the behemoth, hefting up another bag of what was probably opium, but possibly just sugar, "_the_ Titan. The Titan of the Marsh."

The behemoth hadn't wanted to deal with Yuugi's constant questions, but was hard pressed to turn down a game of twelve-stud Damage Control at the Opera House. After losing six straight hands to Yuugi, the not quite smuggler – Zawakuro, "the Beast of Three Hundred Nightmares" – finally caved to Yuugi's unorthodox method of interrogation.

The city of Titan was divided into eleven sections – ten districts, and in the center of them all stood the Tower, that menacing and dark building that cut straight into the rising sun. When Titan was still governed by traditional law, the Tower had been the central hub of government structure. As crime had spiked, however, even the Tower itself had become as corrupt as the city it governed, and instead of mayors and elected officials residing within its tall confines, the Tower was instead placed in the hands of Titan's crime lords and obscenely rich. Considering there were only ten "Titans" and eighty-three stories to the building, much of the Tower was simply rented out.

If Kaiba lived in Titan, Yuugi thought, he would probably rent out a floor or two of the Tower.

Yuugi had arrived at the base of the Tower about two hours ago now, having since run out of business six different shell gamers, defeated two separate crazy old men at speed chess, and barely avoided being mugged by a cocaine addict. The robbery had only been averted when the other Yuugi came forward and bludgeoned the junkie in the face with the Millennium Puzzle. The weight and force of the blow instantly knocked the thief unconscious.

Yuugi wasn't sure what to do at this point – according to one of his chess opponents trying to distract Yuugi from the fact he was sneaking an extra queen onto the board, there was no way a street urchin like Yuugi would be able to get even to the elevator of the Tower, let alone to a Titan. The other Yuugi did not have any particularly helpful plans, either, so Yuugi was stuck reading an abandoned newspaper until he got an idea.

News of Yuugi's escape and such were no longer plastered across the front page (then again, this was _Titan_, a city which had more than enough crime to make up for it), but there was still news.

According to this article, _still_ misidentifying the photographs and attaching Yuugi's name to Jounouchi's face, police were of the opinion that he'd gone north to Monopolis, possibly to hide with relatives in the area.

Yuugi frowned, knowing for a fact that he'd never heard of any relatives of his who might live in that isolated town. Such information apparently came from Yuugi's grandfather – Yuugi smiled. _Still protecting me, grandpa?_

There were brief interviews with Yuugi's "closest friends" – Honda, Hanasaki, Anzu – but they were the standard "Oh, he was a good kid, really shy, quiet, bullied a bit but a good guy" lines, and Yuugi felt a pang of guilt. Sure, he wasn't particularly sure if Honda saw Yuugi as a real friend yet, or if Hanasaki saw him as anything more than a comrade in weakness, but he'd known Anzu for years. Yuugi sighed, tossing the paper onto the empty chessboard table and scowled.

Sure, he could probably live out his life in the seedy borders of Titan if he couldn't cross the ocean: get a "real" job, or set up his own shell games, but what was the point? Whether or not he was in prison or in Titan, it would be torture knowing that not only was Jounouchi dead, but also people who didn't know Yuugi's friend would assume that the scruffy blond was the one who killed the set of beautiful pop star twins, and not the other way around.

Yuugi's hand fell to the case on his belt, flipping it open with ease, and with a practiced flick of his wrist brought out his grandfather's deck of Duel Monsters, placing the stack on the table. Faintly he was thankful for the lack of wind at the base of the Tower, and Yuugi began sorting through the deck. He always thought more clearly with cards in his hands.

Although grandfather had taught Yuugi how to play the game, and often played against Yuugi after that encounter with Kaiba Seto, Yuugi had never faced his grandfather's "true deck of the heart." It was a privilege Yuugi would have to earn, said grandfather, by defeating all six of his grandfather's skill-training decks. Yuugi had still been two decks away from facing this final match, since they only ever had time for full-out duels once every week or so.

Yuugi sighed, flipping through the so-far somewhat ordinary cards. There was a reason grandfather had left this specific deck for Yuugi to find, something special about these cards.

Yuugi's absent-minded flipping halted, and he gazed upon his grandfather's rare Blue Eyes White Dragon. Yuugi remembered the day Kaiba had exchanged this card for a fake. Yuugi was barely able to tell that it wasn't his grandfather's card – it missing a small scratched heart on the image of the dragon, and lacking the warmth of the Game Shop. Yuugi remembered confronting Kaiba, and the other boy hitting Yuugi, but after that... he had woken up locked in a bathroom stall, his face still bloody.

He'd tried fighting his tears of failure the whole way home, and when grandfather asked for his card, Yuugi had started babbling for forgiveness as he handed over Kaiba's fake. But grandfather just looked at Yuugi with a smile, and said, "You were very brave, Yuugi, standing up to a boy like Kaiba over a playing card."

Yuugi had nearly started bawling in his grandfather's arms for not being good enough when he saw the small, faint etching of a heart on the body of the dragon, and grandfather spoke of how proud he was of Yuugi for recovering the card from someone as greedy and prideful as Kaiba.

Yuugi stroked the dragon on the card, and smiled. "Other me," he muttered, "you fought Kaiba for this card, didn't you?" There was the faintest pressure on Yuugi's body, as though he was exchanging a hug with the wind and a muttered _yes, aibou,_ in his mind and ears, and Yuugi smiled, his melancholy ebbing away.

This card, Yuugi realized, was what grandfather had wanted Yuugi to receive – cherished as a gift from his greatest friend, grandfather had given this card to the grandson he knew he might never see again. This was the symbol of his grandfather's trust.

And, though grandfather didn't know it, this card was also a symbol of the amount of care and protection Yuugi would receive from his other self. Yuugi still didn't know what had happened during many of his blackouts – the other Yuugi was hesitant to answer, and Yuugi did not want to pry after hearing Jounouchi's description of how the Rintama High gang had been electrocuted, or Anzu recounting about that criminal that had taken her hostage and wound up setting himself on fire – but this card showed that the other Yuugi protected more than just Yuugi's physical safety, but those he cared about, and even the promises he made.

Yuugi shuffled the dragon back into the deck, and stored the cards away. Like the shadow had alluded several nights before: even though Yuugi was by himself, he was not alone. He would not break the promise of trust bestowed upon him by the Blue Eyes White Dragon. Yuugi would not give up.

Yuugi walked towards the Tower.

* * *

--

* * *

Like an extravagant hotel lobby, the foyer of the Tower was open, vast, and very shiny. The floor was polished marble, a pinkish quartz of a color that felt as slick as ice under Yuugi's worn trainers. The floor reflected the dozen crystal chandeliers that illuminated the room like frozen roses housing sleeping _hitodama_. Tall potted trees lined the walls, the pink and green masking the building's far more insidious roots, like a poisonous flower or a colorful, venomous snake.

And, like a hotel, there was a long front desk manned by four young workers in finely crafted uniforms. The room was only sparsely crowded, and to Yuugi it felt more like walking into a deserted ballroom than a den of crime.

Yuugi's shadow was too dark and solid to be naturally cast by the spread-out lighting, and Yuugi took comfort in this.

With as much confidence as he could muster, Yuugi approached the first empty station at the desk. The young man behind the counter, a blond westerner with a bland western name emblazoned on a chrome placard before him, was engrossed in the ill-lit screen of his portable game system. He was pressing keys in the frantic opposition that Yuugi immediately associated with the nerve-wracking boss encounter in a turn-based battle system of a role-playing game.

Yuugi tapped the desk bell, but the westerner – Adam Young, his placard proclaimed – ignored him completely. Yuugi pressed the bell again. Still, he was ignored. Refusing to give up in the face of such a minor inconvenience, Yuugi tapped the bell again. And again. And again some more. His hand repeatedly hit the button of the bell, increasing in volume and frequency as only a hand can do after it has wasted innumerable days on arcade battle games with rapid punch combos. Yuugi continued this rapid-fire assault until finally the blond spared Yuugi a brief glance before returning to his game.

"I'm busy," said Adam, his left thumb scrolling through an attack menu, "come back later."

"What are you playing?" asked Yuugi as pleasantly as possible, sensing that if he allowed himself to be shuffled out, he'd eventually wind up at the bottom of the deck, figuratively speaking. Young spared him another glance.

"Dungeon Crawler," he muttered, watching the screen once more.

" 'Attack of the Dragon,' 'the Dragon Attacks,' or 'Return of the Dragon from the Previous Two Games Who is Still Alive and Attacking for Reasons Too Long to Detail in the Title of a Game'?" asked Yuugi, trying to lean forward to look at the small screen.

"The third."

"What part?"

Adam glared, and surprisingly hit the pause button. "Listen kid," he said with an exasperated sigh, "I'm busy. Why don't you bug someone else?"

Yuugi smiled. "I prefer talking to gamers," he said, still trying to peer at the game screen, "and I remember beating that game a few months ago, so I want to see how far you are."

The angry look disappeared in an instant, and Adam Young looked at Yuugi hopefully. "Dude, you serious? I've been stuck on this boss for a week now and I'm thinking about killing people for serious."

The details of the game rushed back to Yuugi, and he let his hands fall upon the cool surface of the desk.

"Yeah, sure," he said, "which boss are you on? I remember it took me _forever_ to beat Dynasty's Orb in the Mineral Temple, and the Troll Bridge was such a pain to figure out."

Adam leaned over the counter, letting his game system rest on the desk between them, better allowing Yuugi to see the 'pause' sign flash. "Troll bridge," he said, "I always die after probably the twelfth poisoning."

"Oh wow, he usually got me by the sixth," said Yuugi, but he shook his head. "He was such a cheap boss."

Adam Young looked nearly desperate. "Hey kid, help me beat him, and I'll return the favor somehow, all right?"

Yuugi stifled his grin. "I'm trying to get passage on a boat out of Titan, but I'm told the only way to do that is through the Titan of the Marsh." Adam winced, looking at his game again.

"I don't have the authority to get anyone that high up," he said with hesitation, "but I can get you to the guy that can. So please?"

Yuugi nodded his acceptance, looking down at the screen. "Yeah, I'll help. Does Lydia know _'Meteor Shower of Death'_ yet?"

"I've leveled them up so much, she knows freaking '_Brimstone Causes Premature Baldness_.' But fire attacks don't work on the troll."

"I know, but you still need it. Have everyone defend for the next three turns."

Adam unpaused the game, following Yuugi's seemingly bizarre advice to constantly defend, cast levitation magic, and put up magic shields when this particular boss neither used ground or magic-based attacks.

"Is everyone as far back as they can go?" Yuugi asked.

"Yeah, but Cedric is totally going to die next turn if I can't get him some soul soup."

"Don't worry, just have Lydia cast her '_Meteor Shower of Death_' and have Fayluke initiate '_Wind Sprint_'."

Adam glanced at Yuugi in disdain, but followed the commands nonetheless. A minute later, the faint electronic fanfare warbled from the game's speakers. Adam stared, his jaw slack.

"... _what the hell?!_"

"You're not meant to kill the troll for some stupid reason," Yuugi said, resting his chin on his arms, folded on the desk, "because apparently three towns prior some old man is _supposed_ to mention stuff about a lost prince, and apparently the troll on the bridge has to go downstream and rescue the guy from a coven of door-to-door salesmen. This lets you buy necessary but overpriced weapons later on."

"... I had to _set the bridge on fire?_ This game is retarded."

Yuugi gave a short nod and a small chuckle. "Dynasty's Orb is worse. You have to keep casting cure spells on it until it kills your entire party, then there's a really stupid cut-scene, and your party wakes up boosted five levels and on another continent."

Adam flicked off the game's power, having presumably found a save point. "... so stupid."

"The final boss is worth it, though," Yuugi said. "Greatest plot twist ever, and the _good_ kind of difficult."

Adam slipped the game system under the counter, and turned towards one of the service doors with a slight gesture for Yuugi to follow. Nearly jogging to keep up with the man, Yuugi barely acknowledged the thumping of the Puzzle against his torso.

They walked down a narrow but well-lit hallway for at least a minute or two, ending their journey in the building's massive kitchen. Everything was white or polished chrome, no actual food to be seen under the bright fluorescent lights.

Adam grabbed the awkward wedge handle of a tall chrome door, but he did not pull it open.

"Kid, what's your name?"

"... Saikoro," Yuugi said, his hand tracing lightly over the bloodstains on the Puzzle (he didn't even know whose blood it was). Adam stared at him a moment, obviously expecting more from Yuugi, but after the silence dragged he just shrugged and pulled open the door. A small blast of cold air escaped the when the door opened, but Yuugi could only tell by the air's visibility; it could have been smoke.

"Boss, there's a kid here that needs to face a Titan," said Adam into the room. "He's calling himself 'dice'."

If the boss said anything, Yuugi missed it, but Adam gestured for Yuugi to enter. He passed through the silver-colored doorway, his skin chilling instantly in the cool air as the large door swung shut behind him. On shelves all around him were boxes of produce and ridiculously oversized jars and bottles of condiments and sauces, giant platters of baked goods, and bags filled with loaves of bread.

Sitting on a large box with holes in the side revealing flats of soda cans, another man calmly smoked what could have been a cigarette (but probably wasn't). He wore the pure, unsoiled white of the kitchen staff, either being so skilled as to avoid staining himself on the retaliating food he prepared, or else freshly dressed. The man's thick black hair was peppered with gray and was not hidden under any cap, making designating his position in the kitchen more difficult (though Yuugi wouldn't have been able to identify anyone other than the head chef anyway).

The man took another drag off his 'cigarette,' absently gesturing to an overturned 5-gallon bucket. Yuugi cautiously took a seat. At closer range, Yuugi could tell just by the scent that the smoke was not tobacco, and he hoped his gag reflex wasn't too noticeable. At least the fan was on, cycling out the nauseous smell. The man offered it to Yuugi, but he instantly declined; the man brought the fag back to his lips. "You sure?" he asked, taking a hit, "it's good stuff." Yuugi shook his head once more, and the cook of some kind shrugged, pinching out the ember before sliding the joint down into his white breast pocket, next to a permanent marker and a small meat thermometer.

"So, Saikoro-kun, for some ungodly reason you not only want to face a Titan, you got the bloody antichrist of all people to want to help you."

"... um..."

"Adam. 's a nickname." The man shrugged, picking up an open and half-empty bottle of beer from the ground. "He's not the helpful type. So," he took a swig, "I actually feel open letting you plead your case."

Yuugi nodded, and smiled. "Thank you, I—"

"Don't go thanking me yet, kid." The man gestured to Yuugi vaguely with his bottle. "What the fuck's with the eyesore, anyway? What are you, a pimp?"

"It was a gift from my grandfather," replied Yuugi, but said nothing further.

"Looks tacky," he said, "and a crappy gift if it's already rusted."

"It's blood," Yuugi shot back, feeling a pulse of irritation: for a man willing to let Yuugi talk, he sure wasn't letting Yuugi get to the point.

"What kind?"

"What?"

"What kind of blood," the man reiterated. "You know – chicken, pig, cow, what?"

"... Human," Yuugi said after a moment. "Probably mine."

The cook smiled then, his teeth crooked and yellow but otherwise well maintained.

"All right, Saikoro-kun, tell Uncle Chino about why you want to see a Titan."

Taking a deep breath, Yuugi briefly told how he needed to get out of Japan, and what he'd heard about the 'Marsh law' about needing permission from the Titan of the district, and how he'd bribed Adam Young with game cheats. Chino drank his beer in silence for the story, and after Yuugi finished with a shudder from the chill air, Chino stared for a moment before draining the rest of his beer.

"The blood on your eyesore," said Chino, staring Yuugi down with a paternal sternness Yuugi had before received only from his grandfather, "you said it's probably yours. Whose else could it be?"

Yuugi sighed. "Some girl went crazy at a party and tried killing everyone there before she killed herself. I survived. My best friend didn't. It might be his, it might be hers, it might be someone else's." Telling this story for the first time, even as vaguely and as clinically as he did, made Yuugi ache all over. He acknowledged the small pulse of comfort the other Yuugi sent through him then, only enough reassurance and strength to not break down and scream in the Tower's walk-in refrigerator, but not enough to fully ease the ache. Yuugi was thankful for it nonetheless.

Finally, Chino stood, popping the joints in his back and donning a pair of location-inappropriate sunglasses.

"All right, little Saikoro-kun, I'll get you to the Titan of Marsh," he said, pushing open the metallic door without use of a handle, "but it's up to you to actually get through the door."

* * *

--

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to get access to the Tower's supposedly restricted elevator system.

Uncle Chino, as he wanted to be called, had gotten Yuugi into a spare kitchen uniform for an expediter – the ones that wind up delivering the food to customers. With that, combined with a roll-cart laden with covered platters of tea sandwiches, and elevator security hadn't even asked Yuugi his name, let alone where he was going.

The Titans of Titan, as they were redundantly called, each resided on their own floor near the top of the Tower, and though there was nothing special that needed to be done once in the elevator to get to these upper floors, it was upon exiting that the real difficulty began.

Yuugi rolled his cart down the narrow hallway on the seventy-fourth floor, taking in the checker-pattern walls and the large titanium door at the end. There were no knobs or locks or handles or keycard slots on the door, or anything like that near it: other than the flat gray of the door, that opposite wall had only a state-of-the-art flat-panel touch-screen computer display.

The panel, by far the most intriguing part of this checkerboard-patterned constricted corridor, was much taller than Yuugi would have expected: from top to bottom it was nearly the length of Yuugi's arm from his shoulder to his fingertips. Wide as his two hands side-by-side with fingers extended, the panel was mostly a neutral pale brown, but upon this bland display were an exact series of rows and columns. Excusing the row of five large, black-outlined squares at the top of the screen, the display was divided up into ten columns of twelve rows: the five columns on the left were all smaller white-rimmed squares, whereas the five columns on the right were circles. At the base of the panel was a large outlined rectangle.

Unsure of what to do, Yuugi pushed the cart to his side and hesitantly touched the screen. All the lines on the screen instantly faded to near transparency as thick black writing replaced it, appearing almost menacing in its thick and precise strokes.

IDENTIFICATION TEST FAILURE. DEFEAT ME IN A GAME TO ENTER. LEARN RULES?

Yuugi tapped the word 'yes,' and the black writing shifted.

SECURITY LOCK WILL RANDOMLY GENERATE 5-INTEGER CODE FROM SERIES OF 8 INPUTS.

In the large box at the bottom of the screen appeared eight unique colored triangles: the three primary and three secondary colors, as well as white and black.

USER WILL SELECT FIVE INPUTS EACH TURN TO BE MATCHED AGAINST PREDETERMINED CODE.

The word "DEMONSTRATION" appeared under the five topmost boxes, each of which instantly filled with a color – from left to right, they were yellow, blue, white, red, and orange. The bottom five boxes too filled with colors – black, red, purple, green, and blue.

WHEN USER INPUTS INTEGERS PRESENT IN FINAL CODE BUT PLACED IN THE INCORRECT LOCATION, THE USER WILL RECEIVE A WHITE MARKER.

The outlined boxes around the two blue and two red squares flashed a couple times before two of the empty circles in the bottom row filled with white. The other three circles – indicating the three colors the demonstration had gotten incorrect – vanished. An arrow pointed to the next empty row from the bottom.

THE USER WILL THEN ENTER A NEW CODE BASED ON THIS INFORMATION.

The second row filled with colors, though it still didn't match the topmost row: yellow, orange, white, blue, green.

WHEN THE USER INPUTS AN INTEGER IN THE PROPER PLACE, the yellow and white squares flashed this time, THE USER WILL RECEIVE A BLACK MARKER. Of the circles in this row, the first two filled with black, the second two with white, and the fifth vanished completely.

THIS PROCESS WILL REPEAT, continued the writing, and Yuugi watched the rows of squares fill with set after set of incorrect code, UNTIL THE USER EITHER SOLVES THE CODE OR ELIMINATES ALL TURNS.

The auto-fill sequence had finally settled on the five correct colors, but it still took three turns after that to place them in the proper order. Once it had, the two matching rows flashed in synchronization before the entire screen emptied of all the color that had been added during the demonstration.

READY TO PLAY? Yuugi tapped 'yes,' and instantly the bottom box displayed the eight colored triangles once more. After a few seconds of fiddling with the touch-screen controls, Yuugi filled his first five squares: yellow, orange, red, green, blue.

A circle filled with white. Yuugi smiled. Four circles vanished. Yuugi's smile followed.

"Okay," he muttered, inputting a new row: black, white, purple, blue, green.

Two white circles. Three vanished. This... didn't make sense.

A loud grinding noise interrupted Yuugi's confusion, the screech of metal against metal. Yuugi turned to look.

The walls were still checkered, but now the squares alternated between metal squares of one color and gun barrels emerging from square-shaped holes in the wall. The elevator door was blocked.

_Well, fuck,_ Yuugi thought as he returned to the panel.

"Let's see... if either blue or green are in the code," he said, his fingers tracing the appropriate squares, "then only one of either black, white, or purple would go through." Yuugi scowled. "But it doesn't allow me to submit unless all five spaces are full, but if neither of those two go through, then only two of those three in the second row can go through..."

Yuugi's other hand traced the contours of the puzzle, and with a shrug he typed in a third code: white, black, orange, red, purple.

Three white. Gunshots. Yuugi jumped at the noise, turning to the veritable wall of gunfire at the opposite end of the hallway. Yuugi's thoughts raced towards panic at breath-taking speeds – how could he focus to solve a stupid puzzle with death _right there?_ And why was it always guns?! His left shoulder throbbed in memory, and the taste of blood filled his mouth.

"I can't do this!" Yuugi spat, pulling over the roll cart so that he could cower behind it. "I can't, I can't—"

Very solid arms wrapped around Yuugi, over his own shivering arms, and an equally tangible chin pressed down on Yuugi's hair.

"Yes you can," whispered the other Yuugi, holding him tightly. "Ignore the noise. It will only hurt you if you quit, so you can't, all right?"

"But... but it doesn't ma-make any sense!" Yuugi exclaimed, his gaze going back to the panel. "How can I make a code of five colors if there are only three colors in the..."

The realization was obvious, and Yuugi nearly slapped himself in self-disgust.

"Figure it out?" asked the other Yuugi, still wrapped around him, and Yuugi nodded.

"Yeah, I think I get it now," he said, and though the gunshots still rang out Yuugi and his other self stood, pushing away the lunch cart and moving back to the panel, the other's arms now firmly wrapped around Yuugi's waist. (And, in Yuugi's mind, he was wrapped around the other Yuugi, but since he wasn't he tried ignoring this as best he could.) "Either one color is being used three times, or two different colors are being used twice, right?"

"Mm, but will it be easier to eliminate colors if you go by twos or by threes?" Yuugi smiled, and carefully not putting any color in the same column as it had appeared before, he input a new code: orange, purple, black, orange, black.

A circle was filled with black. Yuugi smiled. The other four vanished. The gunshots doubled in strength.

"What the hell?" Yuugi exclaimed, sagging against the other Yuugi. "This is hopeless." The other Yuugi tightened his hold, his voice low and calm.

"No, _aibou_, not remotely! There are still several turns, and it's all logic. I know you can do this. Now, look. What do we know from those first two turns?"

Yuugi sighed. "That I like rainbows, but have difficulty arranging them?"

The other pinched Yuugi's stomach fiercely.

"Ow!"

"Pay attention. What do we know from the first two rows, if we know from row three that neither green nor blue are in the final code?"

Yuugi focused his ears on the other's smooth baritone, letting the quiet haze of sensory amplification drown out the sound of impending death. His eyes refocused on the screen.

"That only one of red, orange, and yellow is in the final code, that either black and white, black and purple, or purple and white are the remaining colors."

"That's right. Now, add in row three, which has all three possibilities from turn two, and two of three from turn one. What does it say?"

Yuugi bit his lip as he mentally rearranged colors. "These," he pointed to the white circles vaguely, "these mean all three colors are here, so... it's not yellow?"

"Right. Then in the next row, we dropped red and white, and doubled orange and black. Look carefully. What does that mean?"

Yuugi's eyes flicked from row to row, calculating and focusing half his attention on the code and the other half on the feel of the other Yuugi holding on to him.

"... the answer can't have orange, because then it'd only be four whites, which contradicts the number of white circles in the second and third rows."

"Go on."

"So... from row one, the color can't be orange, or yellow, or green or blue, so it obviously has to be red, which can't go into either of these two spaces." Yuugi pointed to the third and fourth columns from the left, "and of purple and black, it's one or the other – meaning there's at least one white, but no more than one black."

"Very good. Now, one of those three is in the right spot. Why don't we pick one and go from there?"

Yuugi nodded, bringing his arms back to rest atop the other's, letting their fingers lace together in comfort and sensory confusion (_only to block out the sound of the guns_, Yuugi told himself).

"Let's go with purple," Yuugi said, leaving their hands entwined as he pressed the second column's lowest empty square, and the purple triangle. The square filled instantly.

"... and there's at least one white, and one red... red can't go into three or four by elimination, or two because purple's there right now," Another row of guns started firing, and with a wince Yuugi squeezed the other's hand tighter, "and white can't go into one or two, and purple can't go into three or five..."

"So which combination is the easiest to test, _aibou_? One red, one white, or one purple?"

"... well, if there is black, then there can only be one black, which means there has to be two reds, but if there's only one red, there could be two of either of the others no mater if the one red goes to spots one, two, or five – though since we're going with purple, it can't go into spot two anyway. One white could support... so could one purple... but..."

Yuugi was testing combinations in his head – having a single purple led to only a single arrangement, as did having a single white, while a single red had two possibilities. He cycled through the combinations again, picturing in his mind his four variations of feasible solutions. He easily filled in three of the remaining slots: red in each of columns one and five, the necessary white in spot three.

Red purple white blank red. With a shrug, Yuugi input purple in the fourth slot, for aesthetic balance.

"Narcissistic, are we?" murmured the other Yuugi, tracing their still-locked fingers around the final code, "violet eyes, pale nose, hair like fire..."

Yuugi's face flushed a blotchy red, uneven and dark as is common for men, and he pulled his hand and body out of the embrace. The gunshots (how had he been able to focus with the threat of death _right there?!_) echoed loudly in the metal corridor, and hastily Yuugi tapped submit before ducking down again behind the roll cart in case the rate of gunfire increased.

The sudden silence was much more frightening.

"Oth—other me?"

"... it appears that your vanity has paid off," said the other, the humor in his voice dry but not unkind, "for the door is opening."

Yuugi peered over the domed lid of a sandwich platter, surprised. The metal-plated, bulletproof door without a knob or handle had swung open into the new room, and the panel game was flashing Yuugi's fifth row with English letters superimposed –

E N T E R

Standing tall behind the cart, the other Yuugi smiled broadly at Yuugi, melting down into shadow.

It was the first time they had really worked together, Yuugi realized – where the other had merely _prompted_, not commanded, and where Yuugi actually listened and needed to be helped in the first place.

With a smile and warmth that was entirely his own, Yuugi pushed the roll cart into the Tower hold of the Titan of the Marsh.


	9. in which things continue to go awry

**Sight the King**  
09/21  
"in which things continue to go awry"

* * *

**_like that of his father the sungod Atum who conceived him._**

* * *

Although he had known it was where the Titan of Marsh resided, Yuugi hadn't expected the place to be so... residential. He had walked into a rather spacious parlor-slash-sitting room, the wheels of the roll cart lurching in the transition of flooring to soft carpet. Photographs of children, elderly individuals, and a smattering of similar-looking smiling young adults hung on every wall and sat upon most of the flat surfaces in the room, from the side tables to the bookshelves, windowsill and fireplace mantle; every frame matched.

The arrangements of not quite perfectly maintained flowers and the almost haphazard aligning of pillows reminded Yuugi of his own home, though in Domino there had been a lot less coziness and a lot more card games.

"Other me," Yuugi whispered, barely letting sound escape his lips, "can you sense anyone else here?"

The other Yuugi, currently bound to Yuugi's shadow and pinned to his feet, began stretching in size and spinning around Yuugi like the needle of a radar. In one such pass, the shadow left a trail of words: _no footsteps, but something approaches._

_How can something approach without footsteps?_ Yuugi thought privately, his eyes taking in all the possible entrances into the room. Besides the door through which Yuugi had so recently passed, there were two closed doors on the far end of the left-hand wall before an open entryway to a section of the flat Yuugi couldn't see due to the fireplace-bearing wall opposite him. There was a matching entryway on the right of the opposite wall, perpendicular to a dark entrance to another possible hallway.

Yuugi, his confidence from solving the coded doorway fading, carefully pushed the cart forward into the room. Looking behind him, Yuugi only saw the titanium-enforced door closed flush with the wall and a matching flat-panel screen, nothing more, but the sudden squeal of rubber on hardwood snapped Yuugi's attention to the right-hand entryway.

From her wheelchair, the woman frowned at Yuugi. "You," she said, her voice a tempered soprano of a professional matron with a tongue clicking in displeasure, "are not my kitchen boy, nor did I call for anything from the kitchen."

Yuugi, startled, slowly nodded and began unbuttoning his white kitchen overcoat.

"I came to see the Titan of Marsh," Yuugi said as he tried to dramatically fling the white coat onto the rolling cart with moderate success, "I was told this was the place to go."

The elderly woman rolled her chair closer to Yuugi (though he wondered, if this woman lived here, why the carpet hadn't been replaced with something more amicable to wheels?), still frowning. She reminded Yuugi of a very prideful bird, like a falcon or an eagle.

"And who, pray tell, taught you the trick of the door?"

"There was a trick?" Yuugi asked, surprised. "I mean, other than just solving the code?"

The frown and befuddlement on the woman's face deepened, etching further into the regal lines of her face. "You solved the door."

"Yes," Yuugi affirmed as the woman simply rolled past him to a matching panel on this side of the door, punching a few buttons. "But it doesn't seem like it should be that surprising with twelve chances—"

"It's designed to kill people after six," she replied shortly, spinning back to face him. Yuugi, for his part, was taking the fact that he had been two bad guesses away from certain death very well.

Actually, it was the other Yuugi taking the possibility well – Yuugi himself had, understandably, decided that he need to have a nice nervous breakdown, and the other Yuugi was quite suddenly thrust into control while Yuugi tried figuring out what deities he had offended that his life was made to constantly go so horribly, horribly wrong.

Though being suddenly thrust into the forefront was momentarily jarring to the other Yuugi, so it took him a moment to get his bearings in the physical realm once more.

"I'm... glad I solved it in five, then," said the other Yuugi, assessing the probable Titan. Her aura of personality, her tone, and essence had struck Yuugi as being grandmotherly: stern and traditional. The other Yuugi knew she perceived herself as a Queen.

"Hm. I have little time for cheeky attempts at wit," said the woman. "Tell me why I shouldn't have you killed?"

The other Yuugi smirked. "I opened your door and brought you some sandwiches. Surely you will lose nothing from hearing a small request?" The woman's hands stilled on the wheels, and the other Yuugi had to suppress a victorious chuckle. She did not even turn her neck to acknowledge him.

"Come to the office." It was not a request. "And bring the sandwiches."

Moving the coat, the other Yuugi quickly balanced the two covered sandwich-laden platters on his flat palms and followed the woman (who was likely the Titan) down a surprising number of passageways until he was led into an extravagant office.

All of the furniture was metal and glass, sharp lines and hard surfaces. The other Yuugi slid the platters onto the large glass desk, pushing them each to a separate side so as to frame the center of the desk for the pending conversation that would soon take place. The woman easily maneuvered around the obviously custom-built desk, uncovering the platters in quick controlled movements that displayed her obvious arm strength. A smattering of open-faced sandwiches greeted them – tuna and basil on soft egg bread, tomatoes and cheese on stiff crostinis, cucumbers and watercress topped with dill on perfectly cut equilateral triangles of bread. The woman noshed upon one such crostini, giving no indication for the other Yuugi to partake or to even sit. That was all right; he preferred standing.

In the back of their mind, Yuugi watched the proceedings silently, having both calmed down and expressing no desire to actively face the Titan right now.

That was all right with the other Yuugi too – the implicit trust was more satisfying than any finger sandwich the Titan could offer.

"Your request, ignorant code-breaker?" He crossed his arms under the lanyard of the Puzzle, drawing attention to both the item's material worth and the amount of blood staining its surface. Him having been predominantly behind the roll cart in the other room, the Titan had probably not even seen the item until this point. The other Yuugi did not miss the way her eyes had focused on the jewelry with an interest more than just mere greed.

Interesting.

"I want passage to the continent on a boat. You control the boats."

The woman, her regal gray hair releasing one slightly curled lock to gravity, merely took up another sandwich, averting her gaze from the Pyramid.

"Seems like a simple enough problem to have solved with the knife in your belt," she said before crunching into the cucumber.

The other Yuugi said nothing. A third sandwich was consumed.

"For what reason should I help you?"

The other Yuugi smiled. "Want to play a game for the favor?" he asked pleasantly.

The Titan visibly recoiled, nearly fumbling her fourth sandwich. "You have nothing I want," she said brusquely, but the other Yuugi merely stepped closer to the desk, his grin unwavering.

"If you win, you can have this Puzzle. I've seen the desire in your eyes for it." The grin on his face broadened at her gaze of outright fear, and though he felt Yuugi push at him in worry, he did not relent. "You can even kill me if you like."

Although bound by a wheelchair, this was the first that the two Yuugis saw her in a moment of weakness. It passed quickly.

"I have no desire to play a Dark Game when I am assured failure," she spat, her eyes darting once more to the God Pyramid, and her voice almost instantly snapped back to its prior prim, upper-class boredom. "But there is someone you can play that would... benefit me enough to allow you free passage through my territory."

The other Yuugi gave only a small nod of acknowledgment, pleased by both the success of his bluff (he knew Yuugi would certainly not approve of a Dark Game being played against a crippled old woman when she had done nothing to provoke it, even if it _would_ make everything much simpler) and that the woman no longer even noticed the sandwiches. Though there was something about her denial that nagged him...

"Have you ever played 'Duel Monsters'?"

The other Yuugi gave a derisive chuckle. "I've never lost," he said, ignoring the fact that _he_ had only played once: Yuugi never lost either, so it counted.

"Of course not," she said, but her tone was too... too serious, too confident for someone who had only just met either Yuugi.

This woman was more than just acquainted with the Dark Games, he realized, and with how she had stared in _fear_ at the Millennium Puzzle – did she know of its mastery over the Games?

Who _was_ this woman?

"There's a young man currently holed up in the loft fifty... three floors below me. He's not a native, but he is a thief, and I believe he may have stolen something of value from... someone for whom I still feel a great deal of affection. Retrieve this, and I'll get you whatever you want."

"What am I trying to retrieve?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure it out," she said, her gaze once more falling upon the Puzzle before returning her attention to the sandwiches, "and the door code will be the same when you come back through."

The other Yuugi stood patiently as the Titan finished another cucumber sandwich. After a moment she waved her hand, dismissing him.

"You don't need me to show you out," she said, her aged and pinched-skin fingers snatching up another piece of lemon-yellow bread covered in a tuna spread that looked markedly like scrambled brains, "why haven't you left yet?"

The other Yuugi did not shrug, but the way his neck gave out a little and let gravity alter his skull-spine alignment served the purpose just as well.

"You haven't told me my opponent," he said, and even though the words were said with kindness the Yuugi in the back felt the censure and impatience. So, it seemed, did the unexpected granny of a Titan, for she recoiled and turned away, staring at some innocent speck of lint with all the fury of forcibly bottled vengeance.

"He's on the twenty-first floor," more hate was directed at the number, whose past was only two foolish choices less innocent than the lint on the floor, but even those crimes didn't warrant such treatment from the Titan. In comparison, that hatred was similar to the unexpected joy of re-encountering an estranged friend in a foreign country when held up to the sheer vitriol in her voice as she continued. Demons would cower under such a tone of voice. "And he's the President of the Kaiba Corporation."

* * *

--

* * *

Kaiba Seto did not live in Titan. Like Yuugi, his home was and probably always would be the city of Domino, with its plethora of arcades and game designers and sheer lack of 'notable' crime or notable authority figures. Kaiba, like Yuugi, was only in Titan for a short while.

They were not planning on traveling to the same destination, let alone together, but things have a tendency to change in unexpected ways like that.

Once in the elevator, Yuugi had been shuffled out to the metaphorical stage that was control of his body, and the other Yuugi was back in the metaphoric green room. Like being on a stage, Yuugi thought the lights were too bright and he still could barely focus; the world was too quiet, and he really wanted to go cower in the wings and send out the understudy instead.

As he walked through a much less secure flat, Yuugi's hands cradled the Pyramid of God. Sure, Kaiba might not initially recognize Yuugi with his altered hairstyle, but just one glance at the Puzzle and Kaiba would not only instantly identify Yuugi, but there was the possibility that he might immediately have Yuugi arrested.

And the other Yuugi? He was "demonstrating his faith" in Yuugi by letting him face Kaiba himself.

The joys and wonders of having another tenant in one's mind. Yuugi examined another room – completely empty, white as far as the eye could see. What was the point of renting out all this space if he wasn't going to use it?

_Other me, can't you find him? Make another shadow-pass?_ asked Yuugi after crossing three more unfinished rooms. _This is getting ridiculous._

_I've already done three passes, and I haven't felt or heard anything,_ admitted the other. _If he's here, he's not moving._

Yuugi fell against a wall and tried to stop the bubbling worry and panic. They'd been roaming this floor for at least half an hour now, moving from one unfurnished empty room to a room of slightly different proportions but with equal amounts of detail, being none. They might have been going in circles, or they could have not yet retraced a step, it was impossible to tell. Yuugi had no idea how to even get back to the elevator at this point, and none of the rooms had windows that weren't covered with sheets of renovator's paper, so he couldn't even orient himself based on the outside world. They would probably have better luck finding another Blue Eyes White Dragon than—

Realization started dawning in Yuugi's mind with brilliant clarity. Ever since that day on the rooftop, Kaiba had started missing days so often the administration at school had assumed he'd dropped out of classes. Kaiba had been desperate enough to get grandfather's Blue Eyes that he'd stolen the card and given Yuugi a counterfeit. Kaiba had been possessed by a near madness for that card from the moment he had laid eyes upon it. There were a total of four of those cards in print; with a fortune like Kaiba's, it would be simple to track down the other three and buy the owners off, or steal the cards.

The woman, the Titan of Marsh, had _specifically_ mentioned the card game before going on about how Kaiba _might_ have stolen something. Could he possibly have gathered two, even all three of the remaining Dragons? Would he try going after grandpa's Blue Eyes again?

What would Kaiba do, knowing that the kid who had humiliated him with defeat had disappeared with the final Blue Eyes White Dragon?

Realization was a bright, mid-morning sun, and it bore down on Yuugi until his eyes watered in the brightness of it.

_Aibou? What's wrong?_

Yuugi clenched his eyes closed against those metaphorical bright rays, calming down. _We have to find Kaiba,_ he replied, even his inner voice tight.

_Yes, aibou, but it doesn't seem—_

_No, other me! We have to find him! If... if I'm right, then he's... he's done some terrible things. He might have even hurt grandpa while I've been off playing shell games!_ Yuugi slammed his elbow into the wall behind him, letting out a growl of frustration.

He felt the very distinctive tingle of the other Yuugi's almost solid, almost ghostly hands upon Yuugi's own (and the matching tingle of hands under Yuugi's).

"_Aibou_. I've played Kaiba in a Dark Game. He's not the same person who stole Grandpa's precious card." A soft finger tilted up Yuugi's chin (and a chin moved at Yuugi's phantom touch), and Yuugi stared into the other's concerned, half-visible mien. "No one escapes a Dark Game unscathed. Not even victors."

As comforting and morbid as the words were, Yuugi remembered the look in Kaiba's eyes as he punched Yuugi for trying to reclaim the card: there was no goodness behind those eyes, more empty and soulless than any of the bullies Yuugi had ever seen before.

"... but what if he got _worse?_"

Even at such close proximity, Yuugi could not identify the thought behind the stare he received, but the hand on his chin slid down, and very slowly the other Yuugi leaned forward, until his and Yuugi's—

"_Aibou,_" the voice was rasped, forced, a struggle against that painful sensory bliss of forehead against forehead on forehead pressed against forehead touching— "_Aibou._"

"Ye... yeah?" It was hard to focus on anything but the feel of those thousand soft stretches of skin over sinew and skull.

"Grandfather... is fine. He's fine. Fine..." their breathing was synchronized in opposition, and ragged – every shaking breath Yuugi pushed out, the other Yuugi drank down as the last water in the desert heat. They breathed like the fearful and exhausted, like running from Marathon to Athens, but were they running from Marathon? Or to Athens? Yuugi wasn't sure.

"You sure?" he asked, and the other Yuugi smiled the laugh of the giddy. Yuugi mimicked.

"You... do you think I'd... leave our precious... precious ones behind and... and _hope_ nothing... nothing will hurt them?"

"Nothing will hurt them?" It was getting easier to speak, and to listen, but actual concentration was shot to all hell.

"Yeah," said the other, "nothing will hurt them."

Yuugi laughed – when had he done that last? It didn't matter; it couldn't have been as wonderful as even that tiny press of skin on skin flush with skin against—

"That's... that's good, but—" there was a but, Yuugi knew, something he needed to do, to find, something meant to be done in Kaiba's Tower flat— "but Kaiba... we have to find... or else... get out—"

" 's okay," murmured the other Yuugi, his breathing still ragged but slowing, deeper, some other kind of exhaustion plaguing his lungs, "he's coming... to us."

Yuugi tried to respond, he really did, he should have gotten a medal for participation for having tried so hard, but the other Yuugi had pressed against him harder, like he was trying to push his skull into Yuugi's, to touch their brains together in a sensory feedback nirvana.

Yuugi tried to respond. He'd gotten his mouth open. He even expelled air. But whatever it was that he'd tried so hard to say was lost in a medley of syllables that made no sense. It was not a moan of any kind – there were multiple syllables and garbled bits of implied punctuation involved.

The other Yuugi, though – _he_ moaned.

Maybe it was that low noise that did it, or the thudding approaching footfalls to Yuugi's left that seemed to echo _doom, doom, doom,_ but somehow Yuugi found his hands on the other Yuugi's shoulders, and somehow he managed to push the other Yuugi enough that a scant centimeter of air cut their billions of foreheads down to two.

" 'zat him?" Yuugi asked quietly, tilting his head towards the sound of approaching _doom, doom, doom;_ the other Yuugi leaned back some, enough so that he could turn to the door without bumping noses with Yuugi.

He nodded, and carefully grabbing Yuugi's elbows, he hauled them both to standing. The other Yuugi flushed with what was likely embarrassment.

"Er, sorry," he said, contrite, "I just wanted to cheer you up a bit. I didn't mean to push it so far..."

Yuugi smiled, but wary of the _doom_ that had halted on the opposite side of the door, replied with a very soft whisper. "Don't be sorry, it worked. And with you here..." Though the door opened with two men pointing guns and Kaiba Seto standing behind them, the other Yuugi did not vanish into the Puzzle.

"Yuugi-kun? Mutou Yuugi?"

_I can face anyone. _

* * *

--

* * *

"Idiots! Lower your weapons!" Kaiba pushed through the worried barricade of his two guards, and both men shrank back in something like professionally dignified fear. Kaiba himself seemed torn between the glee of a cat catching a canary, and the confusion of a very intelligent cat wondering why there was a canary in a room without trees in the first place. The other Yuugi, in his most physical form, held tight to Yuugi's hand, left in right.

"Hello, Kaiba-kun," Yuugi whispered, hoping that none of the other people would notice the awkward positioning of his hand, holding the other Yuugi's invisible one.

"Yuugi... what happened to you? I almost didn't recognize you without the crazy starfish hair." The other Yuugi bristled at the condescending tone Kaiba used, and in that instant Yuugi could tell that the other was not pleased with the amount of progress Kaiba had made after battling the Penalty Game.

"It's Saikoro now," Yuugi said, watching the two guards. If they had any features that separated them into individual people, Yuugi was ashamed to admit he could not see them past the mirrored sunglasses, rippling muscles under business suits, and trim shaved heads.

One of the two bodyguards shifted slightly, fiddling with a black coil of wire emerging from his ear. "Kaiba-sama—"

"Go to the Titan of the Wasteland, tell him an unexpected guest has me delayed."

"But Kaiba-sama—"

"Did I stutter?" he snapped out, like a tortoise and a cobra wrapped up in one venomous and irritable package. The guards didn't stand a chance.

"No, Kaiba-sama—"

"Were my orders in any way unclear?"

"No, but—"

"Then WHY," he demanded, acid and fire and pestilence flying from his lips, "haven't you gone _scurrying_ to do as I said when I SAID it?" Both men fumbled through their bows, nearly vomiting their apologies – yes, Kaiba-sama, sorry Kaiba-sama, never again Kaiba-sama.

They were abused puppies locked in the bodies of vicious dogs. The other Yuugi was quite irate.

The guards vanished into the labyrinth of white. Kaiba gave Yuugi a smile of whitewash and spite.

"Saikoro-kun, ne? I guess it's comparable in meaning," said Kaiba, leading Yuugi further into the maze, "and without the crazy hair you're rather unremarkable in appearance."

The other Yuugi glowered. "Oh, yes, so unremarkable, says the two-toned peach tree."

The rooms and hallways of the labyrinth of white continued, but Yuugi was sure that Kaiba was just leading them around in circles. It was a tactic of intimidation, to make escape seem futile, to set Yuugi off balance.

No matter. Yuugi held tightly to the hand of his other self, more real than anything else in the room.

Finally they crossed into a room of color, an office of chill, icy blue. Large computer screens adorned the walls as though they were tall glass windows; some showed security feeds from other rooms, some displayed line after line of technical English garbage wherein the letters formed things that looked like no words Yuugi recognized; at least three of the small monitors were muted news broadcasts with quickly streaming subtitles Yuugi could not quite make out.

"I've been looking for you, Yuugi," said Kaiba, slipping into one of the sleek throne-like leather armchairs, gesturing for Yuugi to take the one opposite him with a small glass table between them. Without releasing the other's hand, Yuugi sat down, his back pressed flush with that of the chair, and the other Yuugi following to seemingly perch on the armrest. If Kaiba noticed the awkward way Yuugi's left hand rested, he did not comment and kept such notice to himself.

"Saikoro. You were looking for me?" replied Yuugi, allowing the smooth, calming circles the other Yuugi was tracing on his hand with the other's thumb to distract him from fear.

"He's probably after the bounty for our capture," growled the other Yuugi, "or else he may still be after grandpa's precious Blue Eyes White Dragon."

"I was... displeased at the sudden turnabout of our last duel," said Kaiba dully, "and I knew that if authorities caught you before we had a chance to settle the score, I never would..."

Yuugi snuck a glance at his other self, the semi-transparent boy who was glaring very fiercely at Kaiba. Yuugi was still rather confused. "Never would...?"

"You're the only person who has ever defeated me in Duel Monsters," Kaiba said angrily, "and I want to prove that it was just a fluke that you... when you turned my Blue Eyes against me."

"It was never your dragon, Kaiba-kun," Yuugi said sternly, angrily, "it will always be my grandfather's, no matter if he's not the one playing the card!"

"You never would have beaten me without that dark magic you used to display the monsters," Kaiba replied; "that's how you destroyed the Blue Eyes."

Anger surged through Yuugi, burning and burning away the distance between the two of him.

"_**Are you calling me a cheat?**_" He no longer held the other Yuugi's hand, for they both had risen to their feet and both had slammed hands upon the ice-cold glass table separating the two from Kaiba, and both had roared with one question through one throat.

Kaiba did not recoil. He smirked.

"Ah, are _you_ the other Yuugi that I faced that night?"

Yuugi felt the anger bottle up within him, though he was still in control, and he let his hands remain pressed against the table. "Saikoro. You want a rematch? No 'tricks', no 'magic'?"

Kaiba nodded, only slightly, but it was enough. Had it been anyone else other than Yuugi, the deck would have been slapped against the table; even in his anger, Yuugi only placed the cards upon the glass. Kaiba's eyes narrowed.

"I... want to duel you in Domino," he said, his gaze flicking from Yuugi to the deck, but Yuugi shook his head.

"I can't go back to Domino, Kaiba-kun. Wanted for triple homicide, remember? I won't go back when I know just stepping foot there will get me executed, never mind the fact minors aren't supposed to get the death penalty. No." Yuugi felt the arms wrap around his torso, and the weight of a chest against his back, and a chin on his shoulder (a shoulder under his chin, a tense back against his chest, a coiled and rigid chest with an erratic heartbeat under his arms). "I'm leaving Japan. I'm starting over."

"You're running away."

"So what if I am?" Yuugi yelled, not going to cry under that stare, cold as a hopeless winter day, calm as the blizzard's stillness. "I refuse to let that bitch kill me too!"

Jounouchi's face swam in his vision, living and dead, smiling and bloody and laughing with dead eyes.

"You're pathetic," Kaiba whispered. Who was in control? Yuugi couldn't tell – he was holding and being held, but Yuugi was crying and weak and the voice that answered was angry and strong. Yuugi buried his face in the solid shoulder of the other Yuugi, his fingers clutching at his shirt and the Puzzle's cord.

"You are trespassing in dangerous areas, Kaiba." The voice rumbled into Yuugi's fingertips and he held on tighter and felt the phantom hold on him tighten without.

"You're running away. You're _quitting._ Failure is the same thing as death," Kaiba shot back, standing, glaring into Yuugi's eyes, "Yuugi's already dead, pathetic, and a loser. The Mutou Yuugi who fought me for the Blue Eyes White Dragon is already _gone!_"

Hikari's laughter, the gunshots, the sight of blood on his hands, the pictures in the newspaper – it wasn't true! She couldn't have...

"_You lie!_" shouted the other Yuugi, and both of them were shaking, shaking with rage and fear and oh god what was _wrong_ with them? "I will _destroy you_ if you do not cease this trespass upon the realm of Yuugi's heart."

"You cannot deny it!" Kaiba shouted, the sudden crash of glass at his feet of the overturned table shattering on the marble floor, cutting through the argument, slicing to the bone. "The true Yuugi died the second he was cast aside for you, _Saikoro-kun._"

The shattering of the table was _nothing_. At the sneer, it was Yuugi who was shattered, broken and wounded and not whole on the marble floor. He held not the other Yuugi, no other Yuugi held him. He was screaming, crying, bleeding on the marble floor. Where was the other – his other – the spirit – the Puzzle – Sai—

It was fire and it burned him, his face and fingers and organs it cut and burned and froze but _why?!_ He was breathing glass and it cut his lips and lungs. Above him, two solid bodies still stood.

"You destroyed his loser friend, broke his pathetic family, stole his face, and _ran away_. You changed him, wrecked him, lost him somewhere in your fear." Kaiba was not shouting, but every word was a kick-cut-burn to the Yuugi who writhed upon the shattered glass, "Probably when you lost the starfish hair. The Mutou Yuugi anyone knew, the one I dueled, he's dead, and you killed him. 'Saikoro' killed Yuugi's oh so _precious_ heart and stole his body. _Saikoro_ trespasses on a dead man's land."

Why did everything _hurt_ so much? He wished it were true, he wished he was dead—

"You talk about 'the bitch' not winning, how she wouldn't kill you too? _Yuugi would have won._ Saikoro made him forfeit. To lose is to die."

There were footsteps crunching on the glass and walking _through_ Yuugi, through his skull and chest and soul until the crunching stopped.

"When Yuugi comes back," said Kaiba in a voice that was quiet and calm and like the boy Yuugi had known before the whole mess with the Blue Eyes White Dragon, "when you're willing to play and to _win_, and to be Yuugi again... I'll be waiting."

A door slid closed, and Yuugi was standing, facing an empty armchair, standing near but not on broken glass, standing and not cut or bleeding or feeling pain.

Well, that was mostly true, but not entirely: Yuugi's hand was cramped and tense around his grandfather's deck. Yuugi stared at the cards, and consciously relaxed his grip, though when he saw the floor he nearly dropped the precious cards in the puddle of blood.

Dropping to his knees on the broken glass and instinctively shoving the cards into the case on his belt, Yuugi reached over to cradle the semi-transparent head of— of— of— of the red-headed boy on the ground.

"Hey, hey," said Yuugi, shaking the boy, "hey, wake up! I'm here, I'm here!"

The ghost of a boy didn't look cut or injured, but where had all the blood come from? Yuugi slapped the phantom's cheeks. "Come on, wake up!"

Slowly his lids struggled open, bloodshot eyes glazed as they stared up. "_Ai-aibou?_ Yu-yuugi?" asked the other – his other – the other boy, and Yuugi nodded.

"Yes, I'm right here. What happened to you? To us?"

Yuugi slipped an arm under the boy's back and raised him up, and he didn't wince. That was good, but Yuugi couldn't feel the weight of that back on his arm anymore, though the body stayed steady. The... the boy shook with sobs.

"He... he gave me a name! He named me!" His eyes closed, and Yuugi pulled the boy up into an embrace, holding him as tight as he could until his arms couldn't draw the semi-transparent form closer, but he still couldn't _feel_ it. "He-he-he named me and you were _dying_ and I'm not meant to take a name! _Aibou!_" the other started hiccuping with sobs, but Yuugi couldn't feel the way the body shook against him, and the other couldn't seem to hear Yuugi's words of comfort, but he had at least ceased murmuring.

The night in the holding cell bubbled up in Yuugi's memory, softly, but he pushed the thought away.

Yuugi looped his other arm under the ghost-boy's legs and without feeling the weight or the floor or the doors he kicked open, Yuugi carried the boy that was invisible to everyone else through the Tower, through the streets of Titan, back to their motel room under the forgiving cover of night. He couldn't even feel his room key as he spent five minutes trying to peel it from his matter-less pocket, but finally Yuugi laid the other boy upon the bed and crawled up next to him, unable to feel _anything._

Unable to share their grief anymore, two boys wept for the things lost and gained in Kaiba's flat.

Eventually, the two grieved into sleep; one vanished completely.

The one that remained on the bed had his eyes closed, and his features were indistinct: it was impossible to tell who slept on that bed – Yuugi or Saikoro.


	10. in which something is terribly amiss

**Sight the King**  
10/21  
"in which something is terribly amiss"

* * *

**_Atum conceived the king, but the dead king has greater dominion._**

* * *

When he awoke, his head was pounding, his body was cold, and the lanyard of the Puzzle was tangled so tightly around his neck that it was only the black leather choker he wore that, ironically, had prevented him from strangling in his sleep. He was having difficulty focusing – had he hit his head, too? A concussion was not a welcome thing, not after the stress of yesterday. He could still hear the gunshots, taste the broken shards, remembered embracing his companion as they cracked and shattered like so much glass.

He groaned, rolling himself out of bed. The eastern rising sun came without mercy and attacked the bed with blinding fury, and though it was early spring, the sun made his face too hot to sleep in, as odd a phrase as that may be. He rose, and changed into his other outfit – the compact leathers, tight and dark. He'd have to wash his quasi-uniform some time today; as awkward as it was to use hand soap and the bathroom sink as his laundry, it was free and worked well enough.

It was as he was brushing his teeth that he noticed something was amiss. A 'miss_ing_, even. Usually at this point, the two of him would start planning what they would be doing that upcoming day, even if for the past week or so it had been the same "okay, we're seriously getting on a boat this time," plan. Closing his eyes as he scrubbed the film from his tongue, and trying not to gag, he called out to his counterpart. He was met with silence.

As he spat, he wondered if he should take the lack of response from his companion as a sign of sleep: after all, it was not entirely unknown for one of him to be awake without the other, but such had not happened in awhile. Then again, with a headache this bad and as shitty as he felt in control, he could not begrudge his companion the peace of sleep in comparison.

The day wore on, and the continued silence became a greater matter of concern. Morning had passed without a word between them, as had the afternoon. Hell, sunset was passing as he walked through crime-ridden streets, and still nothing. Had he... had he displeased his companion, somehow? Again he tried calling out, but there was no response.

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, leaning on the battered cage-protected storefront window of an abandoned bakery. He tried again, but it felt as though he wasn't merely being ignored; he was being _blocked_.

A bristle of irritation shot through him. All right, so he'd obviously done something to offend his companion: fine then. If he had no other choice, he would force his partner to interfere. He wouldn't let anything bad happen, certainly not after—

There was nothing for it. Though the streets were dangerous at night, he continued walking into the Wasteland.

As though the desire had conjured it, it was only ten or so minutes later that he felt the tip of a knife press into the leather on his back.

"Awfully dangerous for a kid," growled a voice behind him, husky and low; even a couple weeks ago, this voice would have made the Yuugi who did not know of his other self quake with terror, "out on the streets alone with such a _pretty_ necklace."

The knife pressed against him a little harder, but did not cut through his clothing. "I think you should give it to me," said the thief. "Wouldn't want to get hurt, would you?"

The thief behind him could not see his face, but could easily hear the smile and the jest. "Oh, how kind of you," he said, "but I think I'll be fine, thanks."

The thief grabbed him by the shoulder, fingers digging painfully into the mostly healed but still tender wound, and he was bodily slammed into a chain link fence that rattled under the force of his impact. The knife pressed against him harder, but not enough to yet cut through his shirt.

"No, I _insist_, little boy. In fact," the thief hissed into his ear; the thief's breath was hot and oddly clean against his face. He would have expected his attacker to smell of booze, but the scents he recognized were coffee and waffles and peanut butter. "You've got a _lot_ of pretty things I want, and you shouldn't be so greedy with them..." The grip on his shoulder tightened, and he was once more slammed against the fence; he could feel as the knife pierced and sliced the leather, the blade's sharp edge tracing lines into the newly exposed flesh of his back. He clenched his eyes shut.

His companion knew what would happen next, he knew, he knew, he knew, and yet had not tried once to steer him from this path, had not once tried to stop what would follow.

His eyes snapped open in terror as the thief's hand moved from his left shoulder, as the knife trailed almost lazily over his back, scratching in shallow cuts while the thief murmured threats. His partner would not answer his mental calls. His other self would not answer him. Would not, would not, would not, even after all this time, even with this danger to their body.

He slowly slid his right hand to the knife on his belt, praying that his— his— his would stop him, but still his head was empty. Gritting his teeth he swung back his unrestrained left arm, connecting with the thief's knife-arm and pushing it out of the way. Surprised, the thief did not resist the sudden attack, and his arm was easy to move; once the threat of stabbing was no longer in contact with his back, he spun, holding still the thief's arm while his hand gripped on his own knife fiercely.

In less than a second, he had gone from victim to attacker. Without even a moment of pause after the initial thrust he ripped the knife from the stomach of the thief and he ran. Ignoring the memory of the man's eyes widening in horror, ignoring the feel of blood on his hand he stored the knife away, not even wiping it clean, he ran. He was glad for the dark of night, glad for the dark of his leather to not show the stains of violence even as he wiped his hand upon the already bloodstained Pyramid.

The fact that he'd just stabbed a man was not the distressing part. Within the confines of his cold and empty mind, Yuugi screamed for his other self, and still he received no reply; for the first time, the Puzzle was cold to the touch.

* * *

--

* * *

Two days had passed since that encounter at the Tower, then four. The gamblers in the area were quickly coming to know the kid called Saikoro after he began sweeping through their hidden casinos and easily wiping men dry in only a few hands. It didn't matter the game, he won, but there was no joy in him, no pride, no greed. The money only went to the bare minimum he needed for meals, and to pay the rent to the motel matron Yamafuku each evening. Even she was worried: he was no longer the cocky little bastard who'd checked in only a few weeks ago. He'd claimed he had no friends or family – at least none with whom he kept contact. Why, she wondered, did he then act as though someone had died?

It was not quite a dream, the place Yuugi saw on the fifth night. He was asleep, he knew that: he was the type of person who always knew he was dreaming. He could never feel the words or winds, and there was never enough detail for reality, never enough stray dust, never enough shadow play, never enough movement.

This was not quite a dream, Yuugi could tell – for even though the details of the bedroom were too numerous and too varied for his standard fare of dreams, it was not the bed upon which Yuugi had fallen asleep, nor the room in which he slumbered. He could hear the street noises of the early morning Mountain district of Titan beyond the curtained window; the orange light of dawn filtered through the fabric to illuminate the room in a pleasant but naturally accurate haze. It reminded Yuugi of his bedroom back home, though this room and that looked nothing alike.

No matter how real the room seemed, he knew it had to be a dream. After all, when Yuugi was awake, his vision was no longer framed by bleached-blond fringe.

As is usually the case in dreams, somehow Yuugi knew that even though he had 'awoken' in this room, he was meant to cross the threshold of the open bedroom doorway. Paradoxically, the darkness of the hallway was cast into his room, rather than light being cast out. Finding this paradox a comfort to his mind (after all, paradoxes are perfectly acceptable in dreams), Yuugi crossed the toy-cluttered floor to the doorway.

Not awake, but not dreaming, Yuugi walked into the darkness.

The light from the bedroom did not follow him. The hallway was long, it seemed, and without unique detail. Every rough block of stone, be it floor, wall, or ceiling, was of similar size, similar color, and similar texture. The stones were not enough different for any one to stand out, nor were they exact enough to be distressingly identical. The only break in the monotony was the open, well-lit doorway through which Yuugi had passed, and Yuugi himself.

Trailing his left hand against the wall, Yuugi walked away from his room.

Father, when he used to tell Yuugi stories from various myths, would sometimes appeal to Yuugi's sense of game logic and tell him stories of riddles and puzzles. One story had been about a maze – a labyrinth, of a monster hidden within the darkness, of a man who had wandered through the deepest recesses of the maze with only a string to guide him back. _"But Dad,"_ a much younger Yuugi had asked, _"what if he didn't have string, or pens, or bread crumbs?"_

_"If nothing else, follow the wall. So long as it's the same wall as your entrance, you'll eventually come back to it – though you may not find what you were looking for."_ Yuugi smiled, though only two of his four fingers pressed against the wall could feel the stone, and only his left foot felt the floor beneath him.

It was maybe a minute later that Yuugi came back to his starting point, though he had not once turned a corner. He frowned, looping back the other way. Again, he turned no corners, but thirty seconds later he was back at the door.

_I must be on the outside of a circle on this wall_, Yuugi thought to himself. Crossing to the wall opposite the open doorway, Yuugi again set off. Minutes later, the fingertips of his right hand tingled, numb against the harsh treatment of the stones. Yuugi yawned; this was a really lousy dream. His hand, in protest, stopped acknowledging the wall altogether, but when Yuugi turned to admonish the limb, he saw a brightly lit doorway.

A doorway that should be on the _opposite wall_.

Apparently cave-logic did not apply to not-quite-dream-logic, but that was all right. Yuugi let his hand drop, and he walked on into darkness.

Time passed, and eventually there were no walls around him and no ceiling above him. Time passed – or maybe it didn't, Yuugi couldn't tell. He tried running, but still the darkness was unchanging, or changing fruitlessly. Eventually, he stood still. The darkness changed, or did not change, exactly as it had before. This was not something Yuugi liked. This dream was really, _really boring_. Sitting, Yuugi crossed his arms petulantly.

"It would be nice if I could wake up soon," he called out, hoping that the noise would induce the action. No such luck.

"Is there a particular reason," he finally asked after a long pause, "that I'm dreaming of darkness?" He was not expecting an answer.

So, in the logic of the not-quite dream world, he got one.

"Have you not lost something, little game?" The voice was feminine, familiar, and seemed to bleed out of all and none of the darkness. Yuugi did not stand.

"I... I've lost a lot of things." The voice was a hand that seemed to caress his cheek like lapping waves, but Yuugi did not lean into the touch; it was too cold.

"What things have you lost, little game?" asked the voice, different and older and familiar too; the lapping wave hand was warmer now, but still not the heat of a welcome presence. Yuugi saw nothing.

"I've lost my way," he said, searching plaintively in the darkness of his mind.

Another voice – they were all familiar, all strangers, this one cruel and cracking in the strain of its laughter. "The game didn't lose the way," he said, dark cold-water arms tugging at Yuugi's wrists. Still the dark was unchanged, or changed without his notice. "The game didn't have a destination, the game didn't have a way to lose. What have you lost, little game?"

Yuugi closed his eyes, even though he knew they could not become weary, and that if he opened them nothing would change. He left them closed.

"I've... lost my disguise," he said, shivering against the ice-slick water arms now caressing him through his shirt, his ribs freezing in the contact.

"You have recovered your identity," whispered voices, one and seven and three and fifty, each number separately and simultaneously; waves pushed against him like hose water to fire, and the cold burned him.

"That which was cut away has grown anew,

"The tail of a salamander,

"The head of a hydra."

The voices that were many and one and not there at all broke off again, and Yuugi knew them all.

"Can he regrow his body, if he cuts it apart?

"Will he regrow his heart, if they cut it away?

"Shall he regrow his spirit, if we cut it asunder?"

Water tore at Yuugi, cut at him, but it was too thick. Was it blood? Poison? Melting glass? Liquid gold? Volcanic lava? Yuugi didn't know. He cried out but did not cry against the pain that he could feel but could not feel, and the darkness taunted him.

"Too late," said fifty voices. "Too late," said one. "Too late," said seven.

"Here I hold his body, for it was cut apart.

"Here I hold his heart, for it was cut away.

"Here I hold his spirit, for it was cut asunder." All the voices were cold, cold and familiar and painful.

"Little game, little game," called the darkness; "little game, little game," called the voices.

"Who's lost the game?

"Where's the lost game?

"What's the game lost?"

They circled, and circled, but still Yuugi kept his eyes clenched shut to his private darkness.

"Who's lost the game?

"Where's the lost game?

"What's the game lost?"

He was shaking; he was hurting; he just wanted to wake up.

Three-fifty-seven-one voice spoke. "Who's lost the game?"

"I... I'm lost," he whispered, and he could feel their-its-no one's laughter as the cold swirled around him in an eddy.

"I-we-one-it-they-you-he meant," he heard, "who no longer has the game?

"Who is gone, no longer with the game?

"Who has failed to win the game?"

The eddy slowed and reversed, the pressure ebbing around him, the axis swaying like a hula-hoop.

"No matter. Where's the lost game?"

"I'm... I'm here," he said, anxious for the speed at which the cold-darkness-water-sound spun around him.

"Here, in his mind?

"Here, in his heart?

"Here, in a dream?

"In the dark, in the cold, maybe nowhere at all?"

The spinning was more erratic now, like insects around a light, or sharks around wounded prey, or satellites around a star.

"What's the game lost?"

Still the cold cut at him, but he no longer shook or reacted to the pain. He spoke.

"I've... I've lost... I've lost many people," he said, keeping his eyes shut against the darkness, hiding in darkness (could a person blink in dreams? They must be able to, for this must be a dream, and his eyes were closed), "people close to me. I've lost my father, and my friend to death. I've lost my grandfather, my mother, my friends to life. I've lost my home; I've lost my will.

"I've lost myself."

His eyes opened.

"I've lost my heart," he whispered, "because I abandoned my family."

His voice was unsteady, but with his eyes open he could see the blur of the spinning darkness. It-he-nothing was trying to drown him.

"I've lost my body, because I discarded my identity. I've... I've lost my spirit, because..."

They were out of control, their hold on him weakening, but Yuugi's tongue felt heavy in his mouth.

"I've lost my spirit because... because..."

"Because? Because?" It-they-nothing screamed, clawing at him as it passed, one entity wrapped in fifty condensed into three but really it was seven, seven, seven figures made of ash, seven figures made of gold, but really only one that was made of nothing at all, like—

"I've lost my spirit because— I cut it away. No! Because _he_ was cut away! The other me!"

Something shattered, and suddenly there was no cold, no wet, no darkness at all.

Yuugi stood in a bedroom, its soft-carpeted floor littered with toys, sunlight filtering through the fabric curtains to diffuse throughout the room. The street noises of Titan drifted through the window, though muted. Nothing had changed, except the door that had led into the dark and endless dark was closed.

"Not quite right," whispered a familiar voice affectionately from an item on the floor. In a small gathering, quite distinct from the various toys around Yuugi's feet, were several human figures made of ash, or blood, or gold, or compressed darkness. They were all these at once, and their numbers shifted minutely as Yuugi gathered them up. Men, women, children, the elderly – all walks were represented in the seven-or-fourteen figures Yuugi placed upon the bed. He did not know why, but the figures on his bed made him smile, and he sat himself too upon the plush covers.

"Not quite?" he asked.

"Not an 'it' cut away," said one made of ash, shaking like an excited puppy.

"Not you that cut away," said one made of gold, the shining luster of its surface reminding Yuugi. He reached one hand up to cradle the Millennium Puzzle, but found only his own chest. Yuugi closed his eyes, acknowledging the absence and apologizing for not sensing it sooner.

"You... do you know how I can get him back? My other self and my body and my heart?"

The figures – all stationary, all moving, able to contradict themselves in this dream that was not a dream – did not move. They flailed.

"The game grew back his body," said one made of paper.

"The game grew back his heart," said one made of stone.

"I know a secret," said the one made of blood, sounding like a young girl Yuugi recognized from primary school. "Do you want to hear it?"

Yuugi looked at the seven figures, worrying his lip, and gazed at the closed door. _How strange this dream_, he thought, but not quite.

"How do I get him back?"

"The little game wasn't little, wasn't a game," said the one made of bone. "He was a starfish!"

Yuugi frowned. "The other me?"

"And if you cut a starfish in half," asked the one made of shadow, "what do you get?"

Yuugi scowled. "A dead starfish. How do I get back my other self? Who cut him away?"

The figures walked or rolled or shifted on the bed, grouping together closer yet not moving at all.

"He told you; he was cursed. He's cut up, just like you," said the one made of ash.

"But he can't grow himself a new body or a new heart, like you can," said the figure of paper.

"All his wounds are bound! There's no room to grow!" exclaimed the one of bone.

"You have to give him fire," said the stone, "but only one won't burn him like that dreadful boy did."

"You have to give him the right fire," said the one of blood.

Quite suddenly, the figure made of bone sprang up and shouted "starfish!" before vanishing without a bang or smoke or flash of light.

"But how do I find the right fire?" Yuugi asked the remaining six-or-twelve, but the one of stone just shook its head.

"Metaphors, metaphors. Does the game not understand metaphors?" it said before it, too, disappeared without fanfare.

"It's not a fire you need," said the one of ash, "it is something more precious than that." The ash figure vanished too; only four-or-eight remained.

"Wait!" Yuugi called, trying to pin one of the figures to the bed, but though his hand did not pass through the dolls he could not touch them again. "How am I supposed to figure out what I'm supposed to find?"

"Silly game," laughed the figure of gold, "you have solved Puzzle unsolved for Millennia!"

"The game has already defeated God," said the figure of paper, "the game can defeat the bindings."

Those two-or-four figures vanished, and Yuugi was left with only blood and shadow.

"The game has already defeated God," repeated the figure of blood, "but is it the game that controls the god? Or the god that controls the game?"

Only one (or maybe two) remained now, and Yuugi held tight without touching the figurine of darkness. "Please," he whispered, "I don't understand this dream."

The figure of darkness was the only one that turned to smoke. "Whoever said, little game, that dreams are merely dreams?"

With that, Yuugi wrapped himself in the warm blanket, shuddering from the icy chill, and he stared at the sealed door.

"Other me," he whispered, closing his eyes and letting the dream (that was not a dream but could be nothing save a dream) fade away, "I'm going to find your fire, I'm going to find you." He yawned, as though he were not already sleeping, "and then we can grow our hearts back, and go..."

Maybe he awoke then, or maybe he had been awake the whole time. It didn't matter. When Yuugi opened his eyes, it was as if he had merely blinked, though the room around him had returned to the motel room – no toys or ominous doors or whispering darkness remained.

"... go home."

* * *

--

* * *

There were five men with guns surrounding Yuugi's bed. They were all that sort of generic henchman with whom Yuugi was getting all too familiar: close-cut hair, dark glasses, and strong builds hidden under business suits. Modern day goons; he was getting somewhat sick of this sort of thing. Yuugi wanted to reach for the Millennium Puzzle, but even through his cotton and leather he felt its weight, cold and heavy as iron against his chest and just as impenetrable. Again, Yuugi was harshly reminded of his other's continue absence: after all, if the other Yuugi were capable of taking in the situation and responding, Yuugi would have woken the moment the men walked into the hallway, let alone the room itself.

Yuugi looked at each man in turn for a leader, but made no move to approach the men or rise from the bed itself. "Ah... who are you?" he asked. "What do you want? How did you get in?" He was trying to subdue his panic of waking up facing down five unexpected guns and was failing quite spectacularly.

The blandest and most generic of the six men – so bland and generic was he that Yuugi hadn't even realized there _was_ a sixth man – adjusted his sunglasses with his pistol-bearing hand. "Honda Saikoro?" he asked, no dialect betraying his origin or social class – he sounded the way legal documents would if they were given accurate voices. Even without inflection, the words seemed aimed to harm.

Yuugi winced, shifting under the covers to find the exact position where he could dodge all the gunfire with little thought for the fact the guns could be moved. _And why is it always guns?!_

"What do you want?" he asked, finally moving the cold, heavy Pyramid away from pressing all its painful weight against his sternum. "Who sent you? Why are you still pointing guns at me?"

"Sir, there's no need to get agitated," said the Captain of the Goon Squad, and he did not even have to make a gesture for the other men to lower their weapons; even though the guns were not now pointed at Yuugi's face, he was not set at ease. "We have merely been sent here on behalf of the Titan of the Marsh to escort you to the Tower."

Futilely, Yuugi shuffled backwards on the mattress, kicking away the sheet and obnoxious orange quilt. "Why would she send for me?" he asked with a nervous laugh, "I'm just a street kid in the Mountains. I should mean nothing to her. She doesn't even have jurisdiction here!"

The goon nearest Yuugi, almost bear-like compared to the others, wrapped one beefy, hairy paw of a hand around Yuugi's upper arm, the man's fingers nearly coming back to his palm. He squeezed in a manner that could be considered light, if a light squeeze precursors a groan of pain and the development of a future hand-shaped bruise in an appealing shade of green. The bear gently pulled Yuugi off of the bed, nearly caressing his shoulder to pop screaming out of its socket.

"The Titan of the Mountain does not care either way for the fate of a street rat," said the bear; the other goons were watching the walls and single exit.

"The Titan of the Marsh does not yet wish you harmed," said Monotony Man, "so struggling is unwarranted. We shall escort you via bicycle convoy. Do not give us reason to force our hands, Honda Saikoro."

Yuugi gasped in pain, his eyes watering. _I'm so sorry, other me,_ Yuugi thought to the Puzzle as the bear and a goon with hands as sweaty as a mouth is wet roughly pulled him out of the "Why Yes, We Do Wash Our Linens!" motel, _I'm going to fix everything, I promise, I promise._

The ride to the Tower was suitably awkward, surrounded as he was by six men on pedal bicycles who probably wanted to kill him, but eventually Monotony Man and the goon with the harried tie escorted Yuugi through the lobby, past the Antichrist, onto the lift, and to the proper floor. Yuugi was glad that he was so short in comparison to all the guards, so not even the security cameras could catch the fact that he hadn't even had time to get proper shoes on, let alone brush his hair or any other morning grooming; his teeth felt disgusting.

Monotony Man disabled the door in one turn, too quickly for Yuugi to even see the code he had input. They frog-marched Yuugi through the door, but both fled the apartment rather than take him all the way to the Titan herself. Yuugi hesitated, and scrubbed his teeth half-heartedly on his sleeve.

_She will be unhappy that I did not reclaim her loved one's stolen item_, Yuugi thought, somewhat worried, _I didn't even play him for it, and it's been a week, but..._

The Pyramid, still lifeless, pulled more heavily on his neck than ever before.

"But... she said... so maybe she..." A small bit of hope in his heart, Yuugi made for the final door.


	11. in which there are some answers

**Sight the King**  
11/21  
"in which there are answers"

* * *

**_He is cloaked in gods and cobras coil on his forehead._**

* * *

The office was the exact same as it had been the week before, all chrome and steel and glass – everything sharp and cold like so many knives. The Titan of the Marsh was parked at her desk, fiddling with a small, white, cardboard puzzle piece, and a second passed before she snapped it into place. She only glanced up to see who had entered, though when her eyes had settled on Yuugi she had looked confused for a moment before she shook her head and returned her full attention to her puzzle, snapping another piece in place.

"I wouldn't have recognized you, had you not been wearing the God Pyramid, little Saikoro-kun," she said softly, and with a start Yuugi realized his vision was once more (or was it still?) framed by stiff, bleached-blond fringe. Yuugi was sick of being surprised by things like this, so he wasn't.

_I lost my body because I forsook my identity, and it grew back, because... _

"My name isn't Saikoro," he said softly. "It's Yuugi." He crossed to the desk, his eyes falling to the puzzle spread out on its surface. It, when finished, would be one foot by two, so probably only a hundred or so pieces, not too difficult, but it was the print on the puzzle that was strange. Most of the pieces were plain white, maybe to represent snow, while the rest seemed to just be scribbles and lines in multiple colors, overlapping like maybe a basket full of stray yarn, or like someone had drawn on a blank sheet of paper with crayons. It was, Yuugi suddenly noticed, like the puzzle Honda had made Yuugi write for Ribbon. There were a couple connected pieces near Yuugi on the desk – red and green markings connected in a word.

_...why would someone talk about turtles in a confession puzzle? _Yuugi wondered.

The Titan snapped another blank piece to the puzzle's edging frame.

"Yuugi-kun? Not all that much of a difference between that and Saikoro, is there?"

"No," agreed Yuugi, "but it's still who I am."

She snapped another piece in place. "Yuugi-kun, tell me why I had to send my ogres into the Mountains in order to get you and the item I requested?" she asked, still not looking at him. Yuugi sighed.

"I... I couldn't get it."

A blue piece slipped from her puckered fingers, and she stared at him in a surprise that bordered on shock.

"You... you _lost? _How could you lose?!" Her stare darted away from his face, but still the surprise did not leave. "The Millennium Puzzle grants the power to judge evil and dispense justice, and control over the Dark Games. _How could you lose to Kaiba?!_"

With an angered growl Yuugi slammed his palms against the glass surface of her desk, the loose pieces jumping in the force of the blow.

"How," Yuugi asked with a quiet hiss of anger, "do you know about the Puzzle?"

It was – as far as Yuugi had been able to find – an undocumented artifact. After Grandfather's friends had found the Puzzle and mysteriously died, it had somehow made its way to Grandfather, while all the others who had come into contact with the item died.

... but when Yuugi had searched, no book mentioned the Puzzle, no newspaper reported any tomb-related deaths in the time frame Grandfather had said it happened, and any time Yuugi had tried taking the box and Puzzle pieces to an Egyptian scholar at the Domino Museum, they always asked how long it had taken Yuugi's father to make such a beautiful piece of work with such a well-written but obviously fake and completely silly 'curse.'

How, then, could the Titan of the Marsh know of its power?

She glared at Yuugi, her thin, wrinkled, but muscular arms splayed over the puzzle on her desk.

"Were you never taught that, not only is it impolite to threaten the handicapped, but also that answering a question with a question is downright rude?"

Yuugi slid his hands from the table, and she too relaxed slightly, her hands returning to work on the puzzle on her desk.

"I didn't _lose_," Yuugi said with a slump, "because Kaiba-kun wouldn't play me."

"... that seems even _less_ likely than you losing," she said tartly. "Kaiba Seto never turns down a real challenge."

"Well, he didn't exactly turn me down," Yuugi wasn't sure how it had happened, but he felt like he was getting interrogated by one of his teachers, or his mother. (_Little game, it was a metaphor!_) "See, a few months ago, Kaiba-kun tried taking something precious from me, too, and I won it back. He wants to have a rematch in Domino, and doesn't want to play me yet, though he didn't tell me why."

The Titan actually laughed, a rich sound that Yuugi was not expecting. "Now _that_ I will believe," she said, snapping a chunk of ten connected pieces against the upper-left corner of the board. It was the inattentive way she was able to piece it together that told Yuugi how many times she had assembled someone's confession of love to her, and how many times she had crumbled it in frustration. It was the puzzle of a spurning lover, or of a love lost to the grave. But still, Yuugi's eyes were drawn to that word, _turtle. _Why?

"Um, Madam Titan?" it was the only lead he had right now, he had to follow it, and to hope— "how do you know about the Millennium Puzzle? I've been looking for anyone who knew what it was, ever since it was given to me... but no one's even heard of it."

The Titan exhaled a breath through flaring nostrils, and her aged fingers set down a mostly black piece. "I... had hoped I would not live to see the Puzzle completed," she whispered, her eyes staring at the jumble of cardboard on her glass desk, "but it has been forty years, it had to happen some time..." She did not turn her gaze up to Yuugi; more pieces of her puzzle clicked into place.

"A long time ago, I was... married," she said, stepping into a story warily, "still am, I guess, but it's probably been dissolved. My husband was a bit reckless, an adventurer, and he'd heard rumors of the fabulous treasures of the Nameless Pharaoh. He got into gambling, and eventually 'earned' enough to go find the tomb. I didn't think he would, but... he found it."

She sighed. "You see, Yuugi-kun – my husband found the Puzzle of God, and it destroyed our lives."

* * *

--

* * *

For the first time, Yuugi found himself invited to sit in the chair across the desk. He slid into the silver armchair, and was surprised by its comfort.

Yuugi remembered that Grandfather had said all the people involved in finding the Puzzle, or who had owned it afterward, eventually went mad but always died shortly after. Yuugi had asked him why neither of them had died – after all, Grandfather had owned the Puzzle for years and years before he gave it to Yuugi, and neither of them had died – but Grandfather always looked so sad before he changed the subject that Yuugi stopped asking.

It was jarring to realize that somehow the mythic finder of the Puzzle had left a widow behind; it made it all feel more real, somehow.

"It destroyed your lives? How?"

The Titan's smile was weary, and in her wheelchair, surrounded by all this glass and metal she looked so lonely – the only color in the room was the half-finished puzzle on her desk, and it too was sad in its overwhelming blankness. A piece in red snapped into place – it looked like the confession had been written in a shape of some kind.

"It started, oh, it must have been fifty years ago – it was during the War, but before the bombings.

"He had joined the Emperor's service, and we got married before he left home. He wasn't gone very long – maybe only a year – before he had been dishonorably discharged for 'reckless gambling.' " She smiled, and had she been younger and less sad she might have laughed. "They say it as if he was challenging the younger boys to Russian roulette, but it was always respectable games – cards, and dice, and marbles. He didn't cheat, he'd never needed to – he was a sure winner in just about any game, and he was ruthless. No, they expelled him because he was just _too_ good, all his commanding officers were losing all their money to a street kid from the Titan Swamp. He told me he'd even gambled on his discharge, too – he'd wanted the negative charge, wanted to convince his father that he was no longer fit to carry the family name. You see, his father—"

"Madam Titan? The Puzzle?"

A chunk of puzzle snapped into place.

"Oh, yes. Well, while he'd been in the service, he'd met this foreigner that had been impressed with his skill of gaming, and the two had gotten to be friends of sorts."

"I thought foreigners weren't allowed to join the military back then?"

The shape – it was a heart.

"Yes. The gentleman merely worked in the laundry, I believe – something menial. My husband told me that the man hailed from Egypt, the historic birthplace of games, and thus gambling itself. The foreigner mentioned the legend of the Nameless Pharaoh, a king who had gambled with the very Gods of Egypt for immeasurable power."

"And he won? Against the gods?"

"... if one is to believe in both this part of the legend and in Egyptian mythology as a whole, then... no. He didn't. The Gods, after all, play rigged games."

"But... rigged games are the easiest to win," Yuugi said, recalling the other Yuugi's assurance in the holding cell, "once you know the trick." The old woman smiled, but shook her head.

"The Pharaoh was a great king, and would not break the rules of the game. The Gods weighed his honesty and pure heart, and deemed him worthy of the power he sought, knowing it would not corrupt him. The story goes on that the Pharaoh was given the Just Seven, or the Millennium Items. Six of these he gave to his council, but the seventh and most powerful he kept for himself, for it was the Pyramid of God. The others of the seven were designed to find criminals and prove their guilt – only the seventh could dispense balanced judgment."

Under her fingertips the confession puzzle had been nearly completed, but the writing was so intricate and distorted, Yuugi would not be able to read more than that initial 'turtle' if he tried focusing on it upside down; he was, though, much more entranced by this woman's story about the mystery of his Puzzle than the mystery of hers.

"Well, my husband, his gambling pride swelled and completely caught up in the story, wanted to go to Egypt and challenge to Gods for ultimate power. After all, he was the King of Gamblers; so dusty Egyptian Gods should be easy to beat in whatever antiquated version of senet they might try."

"But... the Pharaoh was given the items because he lost, right?" Yuugi asked, his hands coming up to hold his freezing Pyramid, "so what would they give someone who won?"

"That's just it," said the Titan, "people _can't_ win. If a person plays by the rules, they lose – but if they try to cheat the Gods, they would be punished. You see, the Pharaoh won _because_ he was willing to lose – the ones who most often went after the power were too stubborn and too greedy to lose fairly."

"So your husband... he went to Egypt?"

"Not right away, but yes – I had not yet discovered I was with child when he finally made the trip. He did not return until our son was five years old. I was nearly thirty, then – married for a decade, and spent less than half of that time actually living with my husband. I was, as you can imagine, very displeased with the way our lives were going."

"You didn't _divorce_ him, did you? It's not even common _now_, but back then—!"

"I wouldn't have dared," she said, almost scandalized. "Still wouldn't... I actually cared about my status in society. So, he finally returned home, having spent all the money he got in the war and lost most of his belongings to thieves, and he tells me that he bested the Gods and has recovered the God Pyramid. The only problem, of course, was that it was no longer the God Pyramid – it was a Puzzle, having been shattered and unsolved for thousands of years.

"The Nameless Pharaoh had gambled his very soul for the power of the Just Seven, because crime and terrible woe had befallen his country; the more they relied upon the power of the God Pieces, the Just Seven, the Millennium Items, what-have-you, the stronger the forces that ravaged the country became. Eventually, the Pharaoh realized that, although it had not been taken immediately upon his defeat, the Pharaoh still had to sacrifice his soul as the price of his loss. The Pharaoh bound the evil to himself and cleaved his soul in half, hoping that once his body died, his soul would carry the evil to be judged, and would be condemned for annihilation."

"Wait, why would he need to cut it in half?"

"I don't know," admitted the Titan with a shrug. "This is only what I've been able to piece together. Maybe he hoped at least part of him would be allowed the glory of the afterlife. But the bet was one soul: no matter what else the Pharaoh attached to it, even after binding all that darkness to his soul by using his most powerful and holy name, it was not a whole soul. The Gods, angered at the Pharaoh's only moment of greed, did not judge his soul or condemn the darkness. Instead, they sealed those both inside the heart of the Pyramid of God, and shattered it. The Pharaoh's advisers, having no body to mummify, built a tomb to house the shattered Pyramid, the standard traps being replaced with games of the King's own devising. After all," she said bitterly, "the Pharaoh was a gambler. Who better to inherit his legacy than another gambler?"

She rolled away from the desk in anger, moving to stare out of the large window instead, watching the sun glitter on the blue waters of the Sea of Japan.

"He continued gambling, of course, but he had changed in the desert. He cheated; he changed rules, played rigged games with strangers. He'd become a completely different person, and every night he spent hours trying to assemble the Puzzle. We hardly ever spoke, and our son received no attention from him – I'm not sure if my husband even knew, in those first months, that the boy even existed.

"After six, seven months without being able to assemble it – not even get three pieces to hold together – he tried forcing our son to do it with even less success. He tried training him to become a gambler, too, to cheat and swindle like his old man, but my son was the kindest and sweetest boy in all of Titan, and he wouldn't even touch a game after that when he saw what had happened to his father.

"For _two years_ this went on until the accident that... that..." Yuugi could see her aged shoulders shaking, even blocked as they were by the back of the wheelchair. Yuugi was not one who ignored those in pain – it was something he learned from his father, long before other people had begun to habitually ignore Yuugi. He walked softly to the woman, kneeling down by the tire of her chair.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, sincerely, as tears were lost in the folds under her eyes, and between her cheeks and nose. "I didn't mean to cause you pain. You don't have to tell me—"

"No... no, I will. I just— I've just never told anyone this before. No one would believe that a silly little Puzzle would drive someone so crazy that they'd run a woman down in a street race in order to _win_."

Yuugi did not physically recoil from the emotional wallop, but he very nearly started crying when she placed an aged hand over his while she continued speaking.

"Street racing wasn't common much anywhere at the time, but Marshies – we'd moved after he came back from Egypt – are a lot starved for entertainment. I didn't know that he'd taken that up too, but I will never forget how that day played out.

"Did you ever read the Odyssey?"

"... what?"

"The Odyssey. Homer. Greek epic about a guy on a boat? Or maybe it was in the Iliad..."

Although moderately well versed in mythology, the only things Yuugi could remember from either work were that there was a wooden horse, a corpse that was dragged around, and men hiding under sheep. He shook his head.

"Pity. In one of those two stories – it'll come back to me when it doesn't matter, of course – Odysseus of Ithaca was drafted to go fight the Trojans. Odysseus thought the whole thing was stupid, so to get out of going he acted like he had gone insane."

"All right, but he went anyway, right?" She nodded, her tears having not ceased even in the detour.

"He had hooked up his oxen team and was sowing his fields with salt as though it were seed, even though everyone back then knew salt made the soil useless. Sure that he was faking it, soldiers placed Odysseus' infant son in the path of the plow. Odysseus turned the oxen away, sparing the life of his son, even though he knew it meant that Odysseus himself would go to war and likely never see his son again."

"But that's what anyone would do. What does it have to do with— _oh. _" Yuugi's grip tightened on the wheel of her chair. "He didn't!"

"At this point, he'd owned the unsolved Puzzle for at least three years – it may have been as many as eight. Even if it were not... what it is, having an unsolvable puzzle would have driven him a bit batty, but only... only the darkness lurking within that relic could have so blinded and corrupted him so. I'd known him longer than I have memory. That man was no longer my husband.

"It was the middle of the day, and our son was playing marbles with some local boys in the street. He had a leg cast at the time – he fell out of a tree a week or two before – but cars have never been particularly popular in the Marsh, let alone back then. So when these two cars come speeding around the corner, we were in shock that anyone even had cars, let alone driving at such speeds. The other boys could run, but mine... I was able to get out there, and push him to safety, but I was hit. He didn't... he didn't even _see_ me. I was run down, the tires broke my spine, and he didn't even stop the car...

"After... after I woke up in the hospital, I told my son to hide the Puzzle from his father – destroy it, sell it, anything – but before my physical therapy had even started, my sisters had chased them both out of town, telling them I'd died in the collision. I was so furious – I couldn't follow them, find them, or even speak to them after that. I loved them both _so much_. It's been forty years, and I've spent most of it stuck in this god-forsaken Tower as the Titan Who Can't Actually Do Anything. I just wish..." she bowed her head, her lips quivering, "that I could see him smile for me, like when we were young..."

Silence stretched before them, a balm onto their frayed emotions, as they watched the sunlight glitter playfully on the water. A small sailboat floated by, lazy and peaceful; it probably carried trysting lovers, abandoning the world around them.

The Puzzle was heavy and silent against Yuugi's chest, and the absence of that other presence left Yuugi feeling hollow and lost once more.

The old woman patted Yuugi's hands before wiping her tears.

"Thank you for that," she said, backing up and rolling her chair to the desk. She slowly snapped the final few pieces in place.

"Thank you for telling me... about my Puzzle," he replied, "and the spirit within it, even though it is... not what I had hoped to hear." Yuugi followed her to the desk, and he admired the completed artistic calligraphy of the heart-shaped confession. Her husband had obviously loved her very much, at least once, to make something so beautiful. The Titan turned to him and smiled.

"You remind me of my son, though he was much younger than you when I last... if he grew up to be like you, I would be happy."

"I'm sure he did better."

The woman glanced at the Puzzle, weariness weighing her down once more. "Spirit... so there really was a Pharaoh in there?"

"He... he couldn't remember his past when I asked," Yuugi said, feeling that after the story he'd just heard, he couldn't just lie about the other Yuugi. His hands winced in the permanent chill that pervaded the Pyramid. "But when I saw Kaiba-kun last week, he's been... locked away from me. It used to be that I could always feel him, in the back of my mind, his heart next to mine... but now it's cold and empty in my own head, and I don't know how to get him back."

The woman's hand gently touched Yuugi's elbow. "What did Kaiba do?"

Yuugi recounted to the Titan how he and the other Yuugi had confronted Kaiba, and how Kaiba had insulted Yuugi, and how the other Yuugi and Kaiba had shouted about names, and Yuugi's collapse while Kaiba raved. He went on to tell about the delirium the other had fallen into once they had switched forms, and how after that the other had simply been _gone. _

When Yuugi finished telling her about his dream of the figurines, she remained ponderously silent for what felt like several minutes, during which she rolled to various corners of the room in thought while Yuugi surreptitiously read the confession puzzle, though it took a bit to decode.

_... no fucking way. _

"Did you ever ask this 'other you' for a name, before you gave him the title?"

Yuugi's brain and mouth had thankfully been disconnected, because otherwise he would have started spouting incoherent obscenities. "No. He said that he couldn't remember it, and... that he couldn't take another, but he didn't know why."

"And when other people addressed him, what did they say?"

"I'm not sure. I usually wasn't awake. I think they called him Yuugi, too."

Yuugi's brain was making thirty thousand connections, none of them related to the topic at hand.

"While you were calling yourself 'Saikoro,' did you ever accept it as your own name?"

"Huh? ...no, I guess not."

"Ah. It seems Kaiba has accidentally forced a name onto the Nameless Pharaoh."

_Continue your mind-fuck-meltdown later,_ Yuugi thought, _the other you is more important! _

"So what, do I just say, 'oi, you, you have no name!' or make Kaiba take it back or something?"

The old woman did not answer instantly. Yuugi wanted to scream and cry and bemoan the fact that his entire life had been a lie, but did none of these things. He waited. For a while.

"I don't know," she said, turning her gaze back to the Pyramid, more brown than gold with all the dried blood upon its surface, "all I learned I got out of books. For this sort of realm of illogical," she offered with both hesitation and self-depreciating sarcasm, "you should probably ask the Gods of Egypt for help. Maybe buy a kitten. Beating Kaiba in a card game wouldn't hurt, since as far as your Pharaoh is probably concerned playing games solves everything."

A very, very tiny part of Yuugi could understand her anger at his Puzzle – it had, after all, essentially destroyed her life – but this sudden backlash when Yuugi needed help most made him furious. Although he had not had time to put on shoes, he had been wearing his belt to sleep, and with jerking movements he whipped out his deck of Duel Monsters.

The card was easy to find, and with a flick of the wrist that would have easily sunk an ace into a top hat, Yuugi sent the card flying into the Titan's lap. Her eyes very nearly bugged out of her face.

"He's alive and lives in Domino," said Yuugi tersely, "and considering he owns a store called the _Turtle_ Game Shop, I think I can say that he still loves you with all his heart. He'll be overjoyed to know that you're alive, and will probably spend the next forty years trying to make it up to you. Now how do I get my other self back?"

Mutou Kameyo stared at the Blue Eyes White Dragon, sobbing and laughing and trying not to do either, before she eventually rolled back to the desk and placed the card atop her puzzle. She then wheeled over to one of her glass, half-sized bookcases. Easily she hefted out a thick tome, placed it on her lap, and wheeled back to Yuugi.

_Just Seven – An Accurate Account of the Most Ancient and Mysterious Relics to Have Ever Been Made, Lost, Distributed, Collected, Stolen, Vanished, Recovered, or Otherwise Acquired Through Means Less than Legal_. Yuugi read the title a second time.

"... Seriously? There's a book on this?"

Yuugi's still living, previously presumed dead, biological grandmother laughed the laugh of the giddy. "Oh, Yuugi-kun, there are books for everything! With an attitude like that I wouldn't be surprised if you're doing _terribly_ in school."

Looking away with a flush, refusing to admit she was right about that at least, Yuugi slipped the rest of his grandfather's deck into its holster on his belt and took the book from her outstretched hands. Another fragment of his dream returned, innocuous and weird after everything else.

"So, a book could tell me what would happen if I cut a starfish in half?" Yuugi asked, and she couldn't stop laughing even as she retrieved the Blue Eyes from the desk.

"Or ask anyone who's ever gone to an aquarium. You cut a starfish in half, and you get two angry halves of starfish. But eventually, after time, you wind up with two whole starfish, like a salamander growing a new tail. Worms do the same thing."

Yuugi didn't know why the dream figurine (it'd had Anzu's voice, he realized, but it also did not) thought it was important – no matter. Yuugi had a book that would give him back his other self, the history of his other self, all the things the other Yuugi couldn't remember, (a king who played games with the Gods? How freaking awesome was that?) and a previously assumed dead grandmother to boot.

But, before Yuugi could leave, the Titan called him back.

"He obviously wanted you to have this," she said, handing him the Blue Eyes White Dragon, "goodness knows I don't need it. You take care of yourself, Mutou Yuugi."

As Yuugi took the card and slipped that back into his holster, she paused.

"... Wait a minute," she said, her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "aren't you the kid who's on the run for killing those two pop stars? The Sasori twins?"

Yuugi froze where he stood, his mind racing. No ready explanations were coming to mind. "I... I can explain that."

Yuugi did so by running.

* * *

--

* * *

Yuugi had taken the book and run the entire way back to the "Why Yes, We Do Wash Our Linens!" motel, the cold iron weight of the frozen Puzzle feeling heavier than ever before, pulling at him like a vacuum or like quicksand. It had not yet been a full week with the absence of the other Yuugi, but it was as though one of Yuugi's most important limbs had been ripped off and the wound doused with salt and lemon and acid. His bare feet ached, and were a bit cut up, but he had thankfully avoided mangling them too badly on the broken glass and rusted metal he'd passed.

Yuugi was just like a kid, he thought to himself cuttingly. He was still stranded in a strange and dangerous place without even Domino's havens of schedules and family and the knowledge that _someone_ would notice if he vanished. In Titan, he'd only had his other self (the Titan of the Marsh, though a relative, was a stranger and thus didn't count). Yuugi could almost feel the eyes of the thieves on his weak form, watching the way his large and shining, solid gold Pyramid of a necklace thudded against his chest and cut through the air as he ran; the blood did not disguise its material worth, and it was tied to him only by a leather cord, slip-knotted around his collar but still easily cut.

There was still the knife on his belt, but after that first attack a few days ago Yuugi had nearly puked while he was cleaning the blood off of the blade, shaking and crying and _praying_ that the man hadn't been hurt too badly, hadn't died too. He'd spent hours scrubbing the blood from his hands, and his clothes. Yuugi knew he would not be able to draw the knife again; or, if he did, he would shake so badly the new attacker would probably use Yuugi's own knife to cut away his Puzzle.

The thought of losing his other self without even the hope of recovery gave Yuugi another burst of adrenaline, allowing him to race the final few blocks and into the motel proper.

He did not bother with indoor slippers, his bare feet now black from dirt, before he began thundering up the staircase. His feet were numb to the stony steps, but only because they hurt too much already to notice new pain. He dimly heard the matron Yamafuku yell up after him from the kitchen, but Yuugi did not slow until he crashed into the second door on the left. It was locked.

He hadn't had time to grab his key, either, before he had been shanghaied onto the bicycle convoy. He let his head fall against the orange sign on his door with a thud; the Puzzle, copying the move, thudded against the door too. Walking slowly back downstairs, the discomfort worse now that his adrenaline had dropped off, Yuugi returned to the front room of the motel. Yamafuku stood a few feet from the base of the stairs, holding both a pair of thin house-slippers and a key dangling from an orange plastic key chain.

Out of breath, Yuugi tried panting out an apology, but he couldn't make it past the first consonant, let alone syllable.

"You're welcome," she said tightly, "but next time tell your loan sharks to wait in the lobby."

Yuugi shook his head, panting, but the matron just thrust everything into his already occupied arms before she returned to the kitchen. Again, Yuugi did not bother putting on the house slippers – he'd only ruin them, really, with how dirty and bloodied his feet were right now. Upstairs he managed to get the door open with only a small amount of juggling, and once inside the room he flopped onto the bed. Without further delay he began reading.

The hours flew by with only the frequent sound of the turning pages, and other than when Yamafuku physically dragged him downstairs – she'd evidently taken a fondness to Yuugi, and was worried about his constant and seemingly causeless depression – to eat some unremarkable soup dish, Yuugi did not turn away from the text. Even while he unceremoniously drank down his dinner, he had carried the book downstairs and read the very vague details of the seven Millennium Items, of how each was used in turn to discover, locate, capture, judge, and punish criminals.

Darkness had long since fallen, and the sun's return was only a few hours away when Yuugi finally finished the book. Considering the length and depth of the text, there was not a great deal of information pertinent to Yuugi's current dilemma: he wasn't sure if it was enough.

The story Kameyo – the Titan, his unexpected grandmother – had told him of the creation of the Items was only one of many versions of the story, being the most romanticized and less terrible tale.

Another version claimed that _Each of the Seven was cast with Seven Hearts and sealed with Seven Souls, all fated to eternal torment and suffering, for as the Seven remained upon the Earth, the Seven of Seven and Seven can not have their Hearts weighed. Should the Seven be destroyed, the Lost shall follow, for none may pass into the Afterlife without one's physical remains remaining. _

_The Pyramid of God_, wrote the author, a British archaeologist Yuugi had never heard of who had obviously died decades upon decades ago, _was the relic of the Pharaoh, of Horus incarnate, and the most powerful. The Pyramid was the mark of the balanced heart of the king, and had powers of benediction and malediction; it affected the body and the mind, created clarity and confusion, and bestowed mercy and penalty upon those who faced it. The Pyramid of God could shatter hearts, and rebuild them; it was both creation and destruction in all aspects. _

_But when faced with the sheer power of the great evil plaguing his country, the Pharaoh could not destroy it entirely; instead, he created a prison for that great evil. _

_Most of the tales passed down claim that when the Great Pharaoh sealed the evil, he feared for the survival of his heart, and split it in half. It is possible, though, that the Pharaoh knew that his heart was too balanced to keep such dark and evil of a plague under control. A gray and just heart would not be able to control black or white – it would corrupt to the power. His heart thus split, the Pharaoh bound his most holy name and his Heart of Penalty to control the plague. With that, the Heart of Mercy was left with the remains of the now Nameless Pharaoh, and was left unbalanced. _

_According to Ancient Texts now lost, it is said that the Heart of Mercy tried to destroy the Pyramid of God entirely, to send the evil to the Hall of the Two Truths, but could not. The Heart of Penalty had taken with it the Pharaoh's most holy name, and because of this was stronger than the Heart of Mercy – but not enough to entirely protect the Pyramid. It was written that the Merciful Pharaoh shattered the Pyramid into seven of seven pieces, so that none would ever be able to release such destruction upon mankind again; his final act of mercy. _

_The Pyramid, the Penalty, the Plague, and the Name are all tied together what is now referred to as the "Millennium Puzzle" – believers of the power of the Just Seven tell that should these ties be weakened, or severed, it will be a dark and terrible day for all who cross the path of this disturbance. _

Yuugi dropped his head into the book, his mind and body fatigued in this second forced reading. The book was full of information – some "fact," some theories, but even the second time through reading about the God Pyramid-slash-Millennium Puzzle, Yuugi found nothing about how to _unname_ the 'Nameless Pharaoh'. Destroy the name, sure, fat lot of good that did – it didn't say _how._ Yuugi tried squeezing the answer out of his own skull by closing the book hard against his temples. The only thing Yuugi could think of was that the balance within the Puzzle had been somehow disrupted when Kaiba had inadvertently named the other Yuugi – could this also be why the physical nature of the Puzzle itself had gone from producing endless heat to becoming this cold and dead thing that seemed to get heavier with each passing day? Somehow—

Yuugi tossed the book aside and screamed into the mattress in frustration. He was tired, but too keyed up to sleep, he was empty, angry, lonely – he just wanted his other self back. Grandfather would have known what to do – and there had been another Egypt tour at the Domino Museum coming up, before everything had gone to hell. Could... could it really be that he had to go back? He let out a shuddering sob into the mattress, wishing and cursing and mourning.

"I'm sorry," he choked, freezing his hand against the Puzzle as he cradled it up to rest beside him, "I'm sorry about all the terrible things I've said; I don't want any of the others back – I lied! I lied..." he hiccuped and shook, snot pooling in his nose and causing him to sniffle like he was a _fucking girl_, but he didn't care anymore. "I said I'd trade you for Jounouchi-kun, but I was wrong...

"I want—need you so much... I miss you..." though he felt weak and pathetic for it, Yuugi could not stop crying until he forced himself to sleep. He did not stay asleep for long – not even long enough to dream – but the tears had been burned dry by the fire in his heart.

Yet again, Yuugi would have to return to the Tower. It was time to face his foe.


	12. in which there are photographs

**Sight the King**  
12/21  
"in which there are photographs"

* * *

**_His guiding snakes decorate his brow_**

* * *

It was Yuugi's third trip to the Tower, now – the first had been a challenge of subterfuge, while the second had been completely involuntary. This time, he'd had to borrow one of Yamafuku's head-kerchiefs in order to cover up his very noticeable hair; he didn't want to cut it again, not when he had somehow been able to grow hair that was already bleached (and if he never had to burn his scalp again using chemicals, he would gladly just cover up his hair). The lobby was the same – the neutral pinks and mirrors and plants, the bored-looking receptionists, and the security guards were all pretty much in the same places as before. The front entrance doorman had been playing a handheld game of _Soviet Solar Geometric Gravity Motherland Mission!_ to pass the time, and Yuugi had easily slipped by without the man's notice.

Getting into the elevator, too, was surprisingly easy this time, although the guard by the elevator door had held his sunglass-masking stare on Yuugi for the several seconds it took for the elevator to arrive; Yuugi hoped it was only because the head-kerchief was printed with images of kittens playing with other kittens.

The ride up was uneventful, and when Yuugi had entered Kaiba's still not-entirely-secured flat, he was suitably surprised. What had been a labyrinth of white a mere week ago had quickly and drastically been transformed. It was still a labyrinth, of course; Yuugi had now been drifting for at least twenty minutes from room to room, searching for Kaiba. At least the scenery was much more interesting.

Each room was themed and designed after different games – Yuugi had already passed rooms for chess, go, dominoes, poker, Damage Control at the Opera House, Monsters Kill You Dead (Yuugi had not crossed through that room); even a couple of video games were represented, like Puck-Face, Space Debris Will Destroy Your Family, Dungeon Crawler, and Break Your Face Arcade Fighter. Kaiba's office was probably going to be the Duel Monsters room, if only Yuugi could find it!

After several more rooms, Yuugi experienced a brief moment of hope before realizing his mistake. This room was filled with various three-dimensional sculptures, and these and the posters on the walls looked to be of monsters hatching from oversized eggs. The monster designs were similar to those of Duel Monsters, thus Yuugi's confusion; it was probably a game made by a rival company to Industrial Illusions, but Yuugi had been out of direct contact with gaming long enough that it could have sprung up while he was in Titan.

It was with surprise that Yuugi realized he was not alone in the room.

There was a young boy standing near the opposite wall, staring up at one of the sculptures of a monster – it looked like a giant egg on legs, though a rather sinister egg for it was covered in spines and had a huge, gaping mouth filled with row after row of the sharp, curved teeth of a carnivore. The kid, about Yuugi's height so probably much younger, was draped in some sort of cape or bathrobe, but it was so large on him it looked like a carpet or an unkempt animal pelt from the way it carelessly piled on the floor. The kid's ratty black hair was all tangled in the puffy fur of the cloak's collar.

Yuugi could see no harm in asking. "Um, excuse me," he said quietly, not really sure how to handle children (even if Yuugi sometimes acted like one), "do you think you could help me?"

The boy had a cruel face like Kaiba's, and his dark, dark blue eyes were as hard and sharp as chips of glass, though they burned as if freshly pulled from the kiln.

"Mutou Yuugi-kun, right?" said the kid with a scoff, glaring at Yuugi in a very familiar way. _He must look up to Kaiba, _Yuugi thought wryly, pulling the embarrassing head-kerchief from his hair and allowing his spikes to naturally spring back up. "Huh. You're barely taller than me. How on earth could big brother lose to a kid like you?"

The brat, with his animal carcass of a cloak dragging behind him, had crossed to Yuugi and poked him sharply in the forehead. Yuugi winced and flailed away from the kid, but didn't dare hit him (not that he'd want to hit anyone intentionally, but a kid was a thousand times worse!). "He must be losing his touch," said the kid.

"You... you're Kaiba-kun's brother?" The kid (who, dammit, actually was taller than Yuugi if one discounted Yuugi's hair) puffed out his chest like a preening bird, a peacock or something equally ridiculous.

"That's right," said the brat, "I'm Kaiba Mokuba, and Kaiba Seto is my big brother, and you—" Mokuba prodded Yuugi's forehead again, even when Yuugi tried dodging, "—should never have tried to beat a Kaiba at a game. We run Kaiba Corporation; we _live_ games. Trying to win against a Kaiba is like trying to stab a tsunami – you can try, but we'll crush you."

_Funny,_ thought Yuugi in a way that almost sounded more like the other Yuugi than Yuugi himself, _I remember that we beat Kaiba-kun with little difficulty._ Yuugi tried to not let his pain show, his desire to really hear his other self say something along those lines, but Mokuba crowed with pride and had probably noticed.

"That's why I'm here," said Yuugi before the bird-like brat could continue boasting (how old was he, anyway? So rude!). "Your brother wants to have a rematch with me, and I wanted to... to arrange the details. What it would cost him."

Mokuba laughed, a false and heartless sound that set Yuugi's teeth on edge and his hand convulsively clutched at the freezing Puzzle.

"_You_ want to make a deal with big brother, when you're the fugitive?" Mokuba continued shaking with laughter, his cloak quivering on his shoulders almost like the wings of a cawing crow. "You should be accepting whatever scraps he deigns to toss to you! Show more respect for my big brother – he should be Kaiba-_san_ to you, if not Kaiba–_sama_—"

"Mokuba!" For the first time in his life, Yuugi was glad for the sudden appearance of Kaiba Seto. He stood in the doorway Yuugi had not entered through, under a giant sculpture of an egg adorned with a golden number five overlaying a red geometric starburst more fitted to display a 'pow!' or a 'blam!'

"That's enough," Kaiba the elder continued. "You're the one who needs to learn proper respect. Yuugi-kun is a classmate of mine and... got lucky and defeated me in a duel. You were out of line, Mokuba; don't do it again."

"But, big brother—"

"You're a hundred years too early," said Kaiba after he'd stridden through the room and grabbed a fierce hold of Mokuba's ear, "if you think you can compete with either Yuugi-kun or me. I told you to stay out of it!"

With more force than Yuugi was prepared to expect, Kaiba nearly flung his brother across the room, the younger boy forced to stumble before he crashed against one of the giant monster sculptures, this one a robot with rotary-saw arms. Mokuba's cape was caught by one of the replica blades and was ripped from his shoulders as he tumbled to the ground.

He looked small and frail on the floor as he stared up at Kaiba, tears in his eyes, like an infant bird tumbled from the nest, its wings broken before it'd even learned to glide. Kaiba, however, merely stared at his brother, his face a perfect blank.

"You've always been so weak," Kaiba said with all the inflection of reciting somebody else's grocery list, "and I've always hated you for it. Yuugi-kun," his tone had turned downright _pleasant_ then and Yuugi could not stop the shudder from racing through his spine, "I wasn't expecting you back this soon. You said something about our rematch?"

Yuugi had not turned his attention away from Mokuba – a kid he'd only just met and didn't particularly like, but who had been thrown aside just like Yuugi had been so many times before. Yuugi had probably been physically hurt much worse than Mokuba's tumble into the sculpture, but never had Yuugi been hurt so by a member of his own family. Hurting his own brother like that, a child! It was _unforgivable. _

Yuugi wanted to help Mokuba to stand, but even he could see the pride in those shoulders – his offer would only be rejected. "Yeah," he said, once he remembered what was going on, "I do."

Kaiba nodded once to Yuugi and strode back through the egg-5 doorway without a single glance to his brother, but Yuugi still did not turn away. Mokuba continued staring after the open archway, full of hope and sorrow, betrayal and forgiveness, and Yuugi saw in the boy's cruel face the same pain Yuugi had felt when his other half had been torn from him. But, unlike Mokuba, Yuugi had not been betrayed by his other self; their division could be repaired, and they could be reunited once more. Mokuba did not have that same hope.

Hating himself for it, Yuugi followed Kaiba into the other room.

* * *

--

* * *

"Don't worry about Mokuba," Kaiba said straight off as Yuugi entered the room, "he's been a part of the Kaiba family for five years now, he knows what behavior isn't tolerated, and the punishment for insolence."

"... part of the Kaiba family?" Yuugi asked, confused by the phrase, "I thought you two were brothers?"

"We are." Kaiba paused then, silent, before shaking his head and crossing to the main desk of the room. "Mokuba needs to give up the past and grow up."

"How old is he, ten?" Yuugi looked back through the doorway, but Mokuba was already gone. "That's a little young to be telling him to grow up, Kaiba-kun—"

"Enough. You wanted to talk about our rematch. Talk."

Kaiba had seated himself behind the most impressive utilitarian desk Yuugi had ever seen; its dark wood surface was polished and puffed to such a shine that Yuugi could barely see the grain of the wood under the reflection of the mural on the ceiling. Glancing up, Yuugi took in the image of the Burst Stream of the Blue Eyes White Dragon annihilating a dozen silhouetted monsters, beasts and warriors and magicians alike. Situated on the reflection of the Burst Stream was Kaiba's sleek laptop computer, to which Kaiba had already devoted most of his attention.

The walls of the room were festooned with painted murals of Duel Monsters, all of them by famous artists that even Yuugi had heard of. Yuugi crossed to Kaiba's desk, but only hesitantly sat in the chair opposite. "You said you wanted a rematch with me," Yuugi prodded, "in Domino."

Kaiba merely nodded, not pulling his eyes away from the screen. "Why Domino?" Yuugi asked.

Kaiba's gaze flicked to Yuugi briefly, and to the bloodstained Puzzle, but he remained silent.

"I challenged you last week," pressed Yuugi, perturbed by Kaiba's recalcitrant silence even though he knew the tactic, "and you rejected me because you wanted to duel in Domino. It can't be that you left your deck; you wouldn't leave it behind when the game is obviously so important to you—"

"How would you know that?" demanded Kaiba, his eyes narrowed and flinted. "It's a relatively new game. In fact, if you knew anything about me, you'd know that my fate at Kaiba Corporation was decided by a chess game."

Yuugi stared, slightly dumbfounded. "... are you trying to say," he said, slowly, "that Duel Monsters isn't that important to you, and you really _did_ leave your deck in Domino?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," replied Kaiba easily, but Yuugi shook his head, brimming with anger.

"And I call that utter bullshit, Kaiba-kun. What sort of moron do you take me for?" Yuugi spat the words, and wanted to smack his hands on Kaiba's desk for emphasis, but restrained himself in fear of looking silly this time. "You walked into my Grandfather's game shop, completely unaware that he had a Blue Eyes White Dragon. Upon seeing the card, you threw a _suitcase_ full of Duel Monster cards on the counter to trade. Who on Earth in their right mind would not only _own_ a suitcase full of trading cards, but also _carry it around on a daily basis_ if they didn't adore the game above all others? Unless you also carry around a chess set tucked into your belt?"

Kaiba, still hiding behind his computer, dismissively waved his hand. "I'm rich," he said lightly, "and a personal friend of the game's creator. He's given me more cards than you've ever even seen. It was a phase. I grew out of it."

This time, Yuugi did slam his hands on the desk, but the sound wasn't nearly as impressive as he would have hoped.

"Kaiba!" he shouted angrily, having risen to his feet and now leaned on the desk. He stared the other man eye to eye. "We are sitting in an office _themed_ after the game. There's a _mural_ of the Blue Eyes White fucking Dragon _directly above your desk_. If you loved it so much more than Duel Monsters, you'd have set up your office in the Chess room I saw half an hour ago. And don't try saying you haven't had time to redecorate, Kaiba – last week every room on this floor was empty. _This_ is your redecoration. Don't you try to pull this sort of shit with me now, Kaiba – you broke something in me, and I'm not going to let anyone ever do it again. Now," he said, surprised at his own venom, "_why_ does the rematch have to be in Domino?"

With a fierce glare that only strengthened, Kaiba turned back to his laptop and, seconds later, turned it so the monitor faced Yuugi. The image was unexpected, to say the least.

"What is this?" Yuugi asked, squinting at the awkward contrast of white on blue, "blueprints for a rocket or something?"

"It's a building," Kaiba responded tersely, spinning the laptop back around.

"... is it in Domino? I don't recognize it."

Kaiba laughed angrily. "Of course you don't," he said, "it's under construction as we speak. Do you think I would show you blueprints for a completed building?"

"Okay. So the reason you want to have a rematch with me in Domino is... because of a building? Is it going to be Kaiba Corp headquarters or something?"

Kaiba shook his head, closing the laptop. "It's an amusement park," he said kindly. "Kaibaland, a cheap gaming park for all ages, the center of which is this building, Death-T."

Yuugi frowned. "Isn't that a bit... morbid? For a kid's park?"

"Yuugi-kun, these are the kids who play _Break Your Face Arcade Fighter_ and _Stabbity-Face-Stab Bloodshed Massacre_. A theme park with a 'Death-T' is right up their alley."

After a moment of recalling the violent atmosphere of the arcade between the Game Shop and Domino High School, Yuugi had to agree. Kids of Domino would probably get into fights over who was cool enough to hang out at Death-T.

"Okay. So you want our rematch to be at this theme park of yours, then?"

Kaiba nodded. "No one has ever defeated me in a duel before, Yuugi – never before that time when you snapped. A rematch between us would have been a marvelous draw of publicity on opening day," said Kaiba, his face partially hidden behind his steepled fingers, "until you had to go fuck everything up and kill all those people. That Jounouchi punk, the gutter rat, I could have covered up for you too, but you just had to kill famous, well-liked people and _get caught_—"

"But I didn't do those things," Yuugi exclaimed, his arms gesticulating wildly. "Jounouchi-kun was my best friend! You know me, Kaiba-kun – I don't even fight back when bullies hit me – how could you possibly think I killed them?"

Kaiba's face was a blank mask, though his eyes remained narrowed.

"Maybe not you," he admitted slowly, "but there's more than one of you in that head of yours, isn't there?"

Yuugi's heart very nearly stopped, his right hand snapping up to cover it but landed on the Millennium Puzzle instead.

"What are you—? Kaiba..."

Kaiba's right hand, without his direct attention, opened a drawer in the desk, and after a moment and a small thud the hand dropped onto the desk a plain brown folder with Yuugi's name printed on it in Kaiba's neat handwriting. Kaiba flipped open the folder, and with the practiced flicks of a gambler began snapping photographs across the desk to skid in front of Yuugi. With each picture, Yuugi felt the blood drain from his face and limbs, and begin to pool and thicken in a heavy weight in his stomach.

"Ushio Ryoma, clinically insane. His mother says that the night before he snapped, he had gone out to talk to a young bullied underclassman named Yuugi. He suffers from hallucinations with no hope of recovery."

Photograph two. "Hayashi Daisetsu, studio director for local channel ZTV. Clinically insane. Although his eyes still respond to external stimuli, he is unable to see. Before he went completely mad, he claims to have been attacked while editing footage for the final release on a segment about bullying, in which a young boy named Yuugi was assaulted. No hope for recovery."

Photograph three. "Souzouji Minoru. Clinically insane. He's driven into a violent rage at even the slightest noise. What little information specialists were able to pull out of him showed that his insanity was triggered after a night of karaoke with two underclassmen, Hanasaki Tomoya and Mutou Yuugi. No hope for recovery.

"Are you seeing a pattern here, Yuugi-kun?"

Yuugi was shaking. He'd only been given very, very vague answers whenever he'd asked his other self what had happened during Yuugi's blackouts and the subsequent Dark Games – evasive responses like _"You do not have to worry, aibou; they shall not hurt you again,"_ or _"Only equal to what they have done to others. Look, I believe that smuggler harassing that prostitute over there might be willing to give us passage. Let's go!" _

The dates and times written on the photographs matched Yuugi's blackouts exactly. "Stop..."

"Oh, but Yuugi," Kaiba said with a grin, feral and predatory and full of malice, "it gets better. Take Prisoner 777, for instance."

Three new photographs were flicked across the desk this time: the first, a mugshot of the convict that had broken out of Domino Prison a few months back; the second, an autopsy photo of a charred and disfigured corpse, the burnt and shining face causing Yuugi to nearly gag in disgust; the third, a still frame from a security camera of the man on fire. There was a girl in a waitress uniform – was that Anzu? – crying into the chest of a man with his back to the camera. A man who, Yuugi could instantly see, had hair styled up into spikes like a starfish.

"Murdered in broad daylight," Kaiba added in a low murmur, "in a crowded restaurant, but nobody made a fuss – he was a killer, after all."

"Stop!"

"Then," another photograph, and Yuugi couldn't hold back his shaking horror. "Inogashira Gorou. Upperclassman. He died in the hospital during his reconstructive surgery. You see, he'd gotten himself _blown up_ by the sudden explosion of a substance similar to dynamite. They'd found traces of his skin and blood on his class's grill. Before he passed away, doctors were able to learn that his injuries were caused in a game of something like air hockey on the Domino High festival grounds. Apparently his class had tried to usurp the plot of fair ground allocated to Class 1-B – one of the students of that class, it should come to no surprise, is Mutou Yuugi—"

"Dammit, Kaiba, stop it! I had nothing to do with any of this!" But the words were getting stuck in Yuugi's throat, and bile and fury filled him.

Was his other self truly such a monster as this?

"Oh, Yuugi-kun," Kaiba said, shaking his head, but he did not stop, photographs still flicking across the table from that innocuous brown file. "What about poor Saitou-san? People think it was an accident how he died, but the robbery that took place in his shop _at the same time_ says otherwise, _especially_ when the hot item in question was recovered from the feet of a man found dead at _your_ feet only a few weeks later. And goodness _knows_ how the students from Rintama High's most prominent gang like to proclaim how they'll get revenge on Jounouchi Katsuya and that spiky-haired friend of his – at least, those ones that _survived_—"

The photographs, the people all stared up at Yuugi accusingly, and he could hear them, _all of them_, blaming him for releasing the other Yuugi upon them. Was it a crime to sing karaoke? A crime to direct documentaries? A crime to... to...

Yuugi's tears and shaking stilled. Well, yes, it was a crime to blackmail people. It was a crime to hire one person to assault another. It was a crime to murder, to steal, to rob, to assault, to swindle – all of these people... all of them had _deserved_ punishment. Maybe not to the sadistic extremes of being set ablaze and left to cook alive, yes, but they were all _guilty. _

Their only mistake, Yuugi realized, was that _Yuugi had been involved, _and thus the other Yuugi could have felt and witnessed their crimes.

The first six of the Just Seven, Yuugi recalled, were used to determine if a person was a criminal. Only the Pyramid of God, later the shattered and unsolved Millennium Puzzle, had the ability to judge a person's heart and deliver its just treatment. The innocent would be rewarded, while the guilty would be punished. Penalty Games could not affect those not already corrupt, and only those with a pure heart could win the Dark Games, while those with crime against their heart would be punished with exact equality, even against crimes unknown to the bearer of the Pyramid. Common thieves sentenced to face the Pyramid's judgment wound up dying, and were later discovered to have been murderers.

"... and they all deserved what befell them," Yuugi whispered, tearing his eyes up from the pictures. "The ones who died were ones who had killed. The ones who were tortured by their senses had done equal damage to others."

Kaiba's grin faltered under Yuugi's cold stare. "And the sisters? _Your friend? _"

"Hikari," Yuugi spat the name, "was so upset that she lost a completely innocent game that she shot me, shot Jounouchi-kun, and shot her own sister. She missed killing me. That was her mistake. She wound up killing herself."

"So what you're trying to tell me," said Kaiba, "is that—"

"Is that we never physically killed them," Yuugi whispered, bowing his head once more. "I do not know the specifics," he admitted, "I was unconscious when the other me would play the Dark Games, but I know in my heart that he never physically killed anyone. He would only... lead them to their ends, while they are the ones who took their own lives."

Kaiba stood then, and shuffled the photographs back into the folder. With a crazed smile Yuugi had never seen on any face before (for he had never seen the other Yuugi's face upon winning a Dark Game), Kaiba pulled from his pocket a small silver cigarette lighter. With a flick of his thumb the flame snapped into existence, and steadily Kaiba held the brown folder of photos and possibly related documents over the fire. The folder quickly caught, but the flame was slow in climbing and devouring.

"You are my sworn rival," said Kaiba with a note of mania in his voice, "and only I shall have the pleasure of destroying you."

Something clicked in Yuugi's mind, and his jaw fell open in shock. "All the news reports I've seen," he said with a small amount of horror, "have been showing Jounouchi-kun's picture and saying my name when talking about the killer. That... that was _your_ doing?!" Kaiba nodded, the light of the fire flickering in his bright eyes, glittering with madness.

"I couldn't let my only rival be killed without me, could I? Why don't you offer me a deal, little Yuugi-kun? That's why you came, isn't it?"

Yuugi nodded numbly, watching the fire climb closer to Kaiba's hand.

"I will compete in your rematch, however you designed it, if you can first arrange for me to have a completely fair and equal trial. I want my name cleared, and Sasori Hikari to be revealed for the criminal she really was."

Kaiba did not look satisfied. "I know that if true evidence emerges, I'll be found innocent. Then, during our rematch, if you win... you can... you can..."

"Yes, Yuugi-kun?" prompted Kaiba, and suddenly Yuugi could see what it was that he really wanted, even more than Yuugi's defeat at a card game.

"You can have me," Yuugi said, dropping his gaze to his lap, his hands moving as he spoke. "To humiliate, to hurt, to torture. You can have my deck, and my grandfather's Blue Eyes White Dragon, and you can... you can do anything you want to me."

His hands shaking, Yuugi withdrew the obsidian knife, the gift from his father, and he held it flat upon his palms. "You can even kill me when you're done."

That was it: Yuugi could see the insane glee in the man's face, and Yuugi fumbled as he sheathed the knife once more.

"Will I face you," Kaiba asked, "or the other Yuugi?"

Yuugi's smile was small, and hard. "If it were up to me," he said with a wish in his voice, "I would want it to be us both."

"And if you win?"

"A penalty game," Yuugi said, remembering the way Kaiba had hurt his younger brother, and of the casual way it spoke of constant abuse, "and you will _never_ come near my family or friends again."

Kaiba dropped the smoldering remains of the evidence of Yuugi's... _effect_ on dozens of others, and the two classmates shook hands – each expecting (_but only somewhat regretting_, in Kaiba's thoughts) that they would (_likely, but not assuredly,_ in Yuugi's) cause the death of the other.

The true rivals planned, for Yuugi still had one more person to see, and his belongings to gather before he and Kaiba would set out that night for Domino. When they had each arrived in Titan, they had not planned on traveling to the same destination, let alone together, but things have a tendency to change in unexpected ways like that.

"Yuugi!" Kaiba called out, as Yuugi finally started to leave, and the latter barely turned to acknowledge the call.

"Yes, Kaiba?"

"Who have I been dealing with?" he asked, confused. "Yuugi, or the dark Yuugi?"

Yuugi turned and couldn't help the sad smile that crossed his face. "I thought you said Yuugi was dead?" he whispered, "You told me – the other me – that he'd killed me. That only Saikoro was left."

Kaiba scowled. "There never was a Saikoro," he said, and a heavy weight seemed to lift in Yuugi's chest from the hope that bubbled within him.

"Then you've been talking to regular Yuugi," he said with a laugh, his hope almost erasing all the discomfort it took to get here, "and maybe someday you'll know me well enough that you'll be able to tell us apart."

"I expect you'll die first," replied Kaiba coldly, but Yuugi still couldn't stop smiling, knowing that soon...

"But once I beat you, and you overcome this game too, then maybe..."

"A hundred feet of snow in hell, Mutou, now get out of my flat."

With a giddy laugh – the name should be broken now! – Yuugi nearly skipped from the room, surprising himself with how quickly he found the elevator, and began traveling up for one final visit to the Titan of the Marsh. But, Yuugi thought, hopefully not his last visit with his Grandmother Mutou Kameyo.

* * *

--

* * *

The lift ride had been short, but infinitely disappointing. Expecting that Kaiba's admittance of the nonexistence of Saikoro would strip the false name from the other Yuugi, Yuugi had tried calling for the spirit through the same mental frequencies they normally communicated. There was no response. Even when Yuugi spoke audibly to the Pyramid, shaking it and starting to nearly quiver with frustration, the Puzzle remained cold, silent, and dead.

The thought sent a chill through Yuugi's body and he shook it away physically in denial. He could not – he _would not_ – give up hope, not after everything he had learned. Certainly not after all the things his other self had done for Yuugi, that Yuugi had not and could never repay.

The elevator gave a cheerful 'ding!' as he arrived on the floor of Mutou Kameyo, the Titan of the Marsh, and with an acquired air of determination he modeled after his missing other half, he strode to the color-code panel. He wasn't trying to _become_ the other Yuugi, he wasn't! But everything had been so much easier with the other there; Yuugi hadn't _needed_ to be the confident one. He inputted his code: red-purple-white-purple-red.

Three black circles filled. Two disappeared. Yuugi frowned. Orange-yellow-green-blue-black: one white. Red-purple-white-black-blue: two blacks. Green-orange-yellow-purple-red: one black, one white. Yuugi stared, blocking out the sound of the guns, and he quickly and efficiently began reducing the possibilities down to eight. Closing his eyes, Yuugi went through the eight possible combinations he had left – red-or-yellow, green-or-purple, white, green-or-purple-or-yellow, red-or-yellow-or-green.

But the Titan had told Yuugi that his code would be the same if he came through again – what had changed? The other Yuugi's teasing at the end of it all came back to him then, and Yuugi looked again. It really couldn't be that simple, could it? Yellow-purple-white-purple-yellow.

E N T E R.

Apparently it could. The door slid open easily, and Yuugi crossed through the doorway without hesitation.

If he thought the redecoration done in Kaiba's apartment had been impressive given a week of time to complete it, Yuugi thought it no more. It was apparently 'décor alteration weekend' at the Tower: the room was a veritable maze of cardboard boxes, all of the furniture already gone and the walls stripped of their myriad of photographs.

The Titan was parked near one of the archways, past which Yuugi had not ventured, sifting through and packing a small cardboard box with something colorful he could not identify. The door slid shut behind him, and the elderly woman looked up without fear.

"Oh, hello Yuugi," she said softly, setting down what appeared to be a jar of jam into the box, and beginning to wheel towards the open center of the room; Yuugi met her there.

"Hello, Madam Titan," Yuugi replied, unsure if something as informal as 'grandmother' would be permitted; she had, after all, had only a day to come to terms with the fact she even had a grandson (and Yuugi still thought of the ice cream vendor Norie as his surrogate grandmother). The woman waved a dismissive hand, and then set the box of assorted jams on top of another stack of boxes.

"Not anymore, Yuugi – I've resigned the Title," she said, but pulled something out from beneath the blanket on her lap, "and I've arranged your free passage through the Marsh."

She pressed upon him a small slip of paper, metallic red. Yuugi took it reluctantly.

"Whenever you need anything, you just go down to the docks and find any of the nice gentlemen with hooks for hands, and you'll be able to cross the Sea with one of them."

Yuugi did not read the silver, spindled words scrawled upon the paper; he merely shook his head and handed it back.

"I have to go back to Domino," he said, meeting his grandmother's eyes, always full of sorrow, "I... thought that if I left, I would be okay, but... if I run, I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life."

"Yes," she murmured, taking back the paper, "you will."

"I wanted to say thank you," said Yuugi with a smile, but he could see her flinch at the false nature of the grin, "for offering me a way out, and... for telling me the truth about my other self... and about my grandfather. He does miss you."

Yuugi was not stupid – her sudden packing of her belongings and resigning of her post as a Titan could only mean that she planned on leaving this city behind her. She was not running away (_er, rolling? _his mind prompted in ill humor), but rather going _towards_. She was going to undo some of the damage the unsolved Puzzle had wrought in her life; how strange, then, that the completed Puzzle was to blame for her second chance.

"When I go back to Domino, I'm going to be put on trial," he said softly, "and though I'm innocent, I'm... scared. Will you... will you come? To watch?" As roundabout as it was, this woman was part of the reason Yuugi even had the option of going back – he did not know anything he could do to thank her just yet, that she could not do herself.

There was no hesitation; she nodded. "I have missed too much of life to be picky. Besides," her voice turned a note darker then, and from the flick of her eyes Yuugi knew the reason, "I still need to have words with this 'other you' of the Millennium Puzzle."

Yuugi's arms pulled up and instinctively wrapped around the cold, leaden weight of the Pyramid; the meaning was lost to no one.

"Once I figure out how to break this lock the false name has placed on him... he and I will discuss it," Yuugi said, his tone allowing for no argument. The now-former Titan did not look pleased, but she did relent.

"Could you not use the Puzzle itself to break it?" she stated, more than she asked, "since destroying things is all it's really good for, after all."

Yuugi opened his mouth to retort, to proclaim that it was more than just destruction, it was—

If realizations are represented by light bulbs, Yuugi's mind lit up like a stadium at dusk, or the paparazzi at... a place where paparazzi take lots of pictures, or a city recovering from a blackout. Once more, Yuugi was very nearly giddy with hope, his emotions spring-boarding from one extreme to another very quickly, and he impulsively kissed the woman's cheek.

"Grandma, you're a genius," he said, scrambling and rushing around the stacks of boxes.

"Wait! Yuugi, where are you going?"

"I'm going to go read that book you gave me again," he replied, getting hopelessly lost between the boxes, "and then I'm going to get the other me back, and then, well, I'm not sure precisely what happens after that," he said with a laugh, "after all the jolly hoorays, but I think then I'm going back to Domino, but it doesn't matter, because I'm going to get him back!"

Before he managed to slam the door shut behind him, Yuugi heard her mutter a 'good luck,' and with his winningest grin he poked he head back into the room and replied, "See you in Domino!"

Hiding his hair once more under the kitten head-kerchief as he rode the lift, and then making his way from the Tower and back to the motel, Yuugi could not stop himself from hugging and petting and caressing the Puzzle in glee. He knew how to get his other self back now, and after that everything would be perfect.

Of course, it does not need to be said how awkward the reunion would be, or how uncomfortable the return to Domino, or how weird it would be to explain everything to Anzu and Honda and Hanasaki and Yuugi's family. Well.

Yuugi never was one to think that things being perfect excluded perfectly bad things.


	13. in which Yuugi is aMAZEing

**Sight the King**  
13/21  
"in which Yuugi is aMAZEing"

* * *

**_and peer into souls,_**

* * *

By the time Yuugi got back to the motel, it was early evening; Yuugi immediately went up to his room to pack away his meager collection of belongings. Most of Yuugi's decks of cards had been stolen, lost, or used beyond recognition in his bouts of gambling over the past week, and with the depleted medical supplies it was very easy for him to pack away the book _Just Seven_, which had been previously resting on the unmade bed. The Titan – Grandmother Kameyo – could have it back, he reasoned, once they saw each other again in Domino.

He ate a final meal – an unremarkable Indian noodle dish that was both bland and flavorless due only to the lackluster skill of its preparation – and Yuugi could not help the giddy smile from constantly crossing his face. Finally, _finally_, he had nothing to do for hours until Kaiba's men would arrive in the dead of night to escort him to the night train back to Domino. The matron Yamafuku, when Yuugi explained the predicament, agreed to let him merely stay on one of the lobby couches until his transportation arrived, though it had cost him his final three decks of playing cards.

The room was quiet and empty, the hearth cold and the outdoor foot traffic dying down in the mid-evening darkness. Cradling the Puzzle, Yuugi seated himself on one of the numerous brown leather armchairs, as comfortable and inviting as any bed. Yuugi closed his eyes, hopeful, fervently wishing for success, and he cupped his hands more tightly around the still frozen Pyramid.

_My other self, _Yuugi thought, wished, prayed, _a spirit who was once Pharaoh, sealed up his name. In ignorance, our rival gave him a name against his will. Millennium Puzzle, Pyramid of God: will you destroy this name, and the ties it has wound around him? _

Yuugi kept his eyes closed as silence stretched, but he dared not cease hoping and mentally pushing towards what he hoped was the artifact. The silence stretched and thinned like a taffy pull until it snapped and broke and crashed around Yuugi like so much falling, burnt and broken sugar.

He heard the rushing of wind through reeds, of birds' wings and their fluttering within nets, of water and fire and the shifting of the ground, of the grind of stone against wood, of the pests of night and the scavengers and a hundred thousand voices all murmuring in a language that was harsh and strange and magic. He heard a million noises, and they spoke to Yuugi in pictures and scents and caresses on his mind. Like reading omens in birds or tealeaves or runes Yuugi understood the meanings without words.

This is a rough and idiomatic translation:

_How can there be two of Yuugi, and one be completely different from the other? Who is Yuugi? _

_I am Yuugi, _he replied in only words; _the other is not Yuugi. He resides within the Puzzle, and sometimes lives in me – uses my body, manipulates my shadow, sees my thoughts. _

A smattering of images appeared against the darkness of Yuugi's eyelids. _A parasite? Within you and us? _

_A friend, _Yuugi replied, _with whom I share myself willingly. He cares for me, protects me, he—_

_Is not kind, not merciful, not happy or joyous or kind, not trusting. He does not know charity. He is a predator that stalks in the night, caught in a trap; why should he be freed? _

_We share everything with one another, _Yuugi answered, _because we're both... empty in places. I don't know bravery, or cunning, I don't know many things he does – and those things he lacks, I have. It's all right that he does not know things like charity and mercy – I know them, and could teach him. _

The sounds and sights were a jumble of meaning now, confusing and aimless. It took a moment for something coherent to surface.

_Why should we break this thing? He deserves all the pain he receives. _

_That may be true, _Yuugi conceded, his grip flexing on the Puzzle; he was not surrendering, _but he has done good as well. _

_Not enough. Why should he be freed? _

The feel of the thought was growing increasingly agitated, and Yuugi was beginning to fear that if he could not answer properly, that not only would the Puzzle reject his request but that it could very well retaliate for Yuugi's failure. It controlled the Dark Games – if this were one that Yuugi lost—!

Dimly, external stimuli were making their way into Yuugi's mind: he was moving, being carried in someone's arms through the chill night air, someone calling that he 'had his bag,' but Yuugi quickly pushed these thoughts and sensations away.

_Because... I am the one who solved the Millennium Puzzle, the artifact that has driven others mad. I was chosen as its owner – I was not punished for attempting to assemble it, and after eight years I was rewarded with the Pyramid of God. _

_Silly boy, _said whatever voices that resided within the Puzzle that were not the other Yuugi, _we control the Dark Games for we are a Dark Game. Even you have suffered greatly. _

The sounds and sights of communication ebbed away, and Yuugi's mind filled with images of his childhood – his beloved father's death shortly after he received the Puzzle, the abandonment by his few friends when Yuugi tried coping with his grief with more games and strategies that his classmates couldn't understand, the increase in the number of bullies harassing him when he wasn't growing as fast as anyone else – how more and more his skills increased in games and nothing else, how he could always manage a victory through uncanny turnabouts, how people began to hate him for it. How, even through all his suffering, he had somehow managed to stay so aggressively passive...

_Silly boy, so persistent, he should have gone mad ages and ages before. Silly boy let the Pharaoh escape his duty in his Pyramid among the living – now that a second name has rebound him within, why should we destroy that which captures the heart of penalty? _

The image that came to Yuugi's mind was not one provided by what entity it was that spoke from the Puzzle, but from his own mind, his imagination and memory. In his mind, Yuugi saw a man who looked both painfully familiar and like no man Yuugi had ever seen before. His hands, with skin as black as leather, were folded over his bare chest, above his heart. Around the man's neck hung the Millennium Puzzle, as Yuugi had never seen, glowing as bright as a winter's dawn. The man pulled his hands away, and each hand was covered in thick, red blood. He held something in each of his hands, but Yuugi could not tell what they were – they were so small and mutilated, something inherently not right about them – and his heart clenched in pain at the sight. Blood dripped from his hands and from the wound in his chest, and the liquid boiled and melted away when it touched the white-hot Pyramid. The memory or vision or imagining, whatever this image was, vanished as abruptly as it came.

_You shall release him,_ answered Yuugi, _because the Pyramid of God was built to house and dispense both mercy and penalty, and even though he's done some terrible things... he's done them justly, and enough good to earn a second chance. _

Yuugi had been set down in the physical world, but the Puzzle still held his complete attention.

_And who are you to demand such charity to the king? _

_I... am a heart of mercy,_ he answered softly, _and if I could, I would bind myself there in his place. _

There was something shaking now, but whether it was the world outside of Yuugi's body, or the Pyramid in his hands, or some strange magic working in his mind, Yuugi couldn't tell. Whatever entity it was that gave voice and images to communicate to Yuugi from the Puzzle gave what Yuugi could only describe as a reaction of both joy and apprehension.

_Yes_, it seemed to say, but there was the trail of unfinished thought and suddenly Yuugi was standing within a strange but entirely familiar bedroom – the one in which he had awoken before, during that dream he'd had only the night prior. Stepping over a myriad of toys, Yuugi went to the door leading into the black labyrinth. The door gave way without even a touch to its surface, swinging out into the darkness until it made a soft squelching thud of impact against the outer wall. Stepping out to look, Yuugi watched the door appear to slowly sink and melt into the wall, like so many lives lost in pits of tar, until eventually there was no door to be seen at all.

Light from the bedroom spilled out into the hallway this time, unlike the reversal the night before. Yuugi could still feel the weight of the Puzzle against his chest – a weight that had been conspicuously absent the last time he walked through this darkness – and for the first time in days he could feel heat radiate from it. Even through his thick clothing, it felt as though his skin was being caressed by sunlight.

Yuugi smiled, and brushed his fingers over its smooth, hard surface. "Will you help me find him?" he asked the item, "I'm afraid I'll just get lost again."

It was sudden, the weight that pulled Yuugi down, as though he and the harsh ground had each been covered in powerful magnets. Yuugi collapsed to his knees, his hands slamming against the rough stone floor to prevent his face from cracking open on the impact. The Pyramid too had hit the floor, but it was oddly balanced on its center diamond-bottom point, even though it should have logically toppled onto one of its sides. Yuugi tried standing, but the Puzzle would not lift from the ground, not even when he attempted to bodily move it. His fingers brushed against the Puzzle's eye, and from it emerged a shaft of white light, like that of a lantern filled with sunbeams; all the drifting dust motes in the air twinkled like dancing stars.

Yuugi shifted forward and, though it had remained stationary when he physically touched it, the Puzzle now glided straight forward like ice on a hotplate, the shaft of light perfectly steady. He sighed quietly to himself, but crawled onward.

If he had to do this through such prostration, he would not complain, even as the stone beneath him grew colder and rougher. Every ten or so feet the Pyramid would sudden turn such that the light pointed in a new direction, and Yuugi would quickly rotate to follow suit. Even as he felt the knees of his pants rip, and what felt like broken glass bite into his hand, Yuugi only paused to align his path in the new directions the Puzzle indicated.

He dared not look away from the Puzzle for fear of missing a turn, and thus he did not see how he was crawling through otherwise apparently solid walls, or over gaping pits that should not hold him aloft; he did not see the ominous door, emblazoned with a single wrought eye that glowed at his approach, or how it swung open to his entrance.

The stone got rougher, and shortly Yuugi could hear the sounds of heavy weights crashing around him, and of sharpened metal slicing through the air – he even felt the pressure of cut wind against his neck as _something_ swung above him – but he did not dare look.

In his youth, his parents had occasionally told him stories about the dangers of looking at things forbidden – of being turned to salt or a thousand varieties of stone. Yuugi knew now, of course, that they had just not wanted him to walk in on them having sex (and he was eternally grateful that his younger self had been under the impression that his mother was secretly a gorgon), but one of the stories came back to him now.

Yuugi was not terribly familiar with the story of Odysseus, but he did know of Orpheus, the musician who had traveled to the underworld to retrieve his lost love: how he only had to lead her from the depths of hell without looking back to make sure she followed. Of course he looked – everyone always did in such stories.

Yuugi continued crawling after the light, his hands bleeding now, his knees too, and even though he crawled up stairs and across what he hoped was glass or ice but knew to be air and water, he pressed on. He did not know how many miles he had crawled, or how many days had passed, when the light flickered gold before dying off completely. Yuugi, on his hands and knees, stayed very still, sweat rolling irritatingly down his temples and over his cheeks, but he did not brush it away. The Puzzle, which had through this entire journey remained balanced on its point, toppled.

Very slowly, Yuugi crawled back and up to sitting, the weight of the Puzzle feeling like only of a bag of wind, but still warm and metal against his chest. Eventually, Yuugi looked.

He was sitting on the cold, stone floor of a very large and dusty room. It was hard to see how large and how dusty the room could be, because Yuugi was facing a wall. When he finally made his way up to standing, he could see how large the room was because the wall, as it turned out, was a platform of some kind.

Upon the stone tablet, larger and wider than even Yuugi's mother's bed, lay the other Yuugi, bound in chains.

It was very, very difficult for Yuugi to refrain from scrambling onto the platform, seeing the nightmare sweat rise and build and roll from the other Yuugi's flushed forehead. He wore the same clothes as Yuugi, but Yuugi's were bloodied and ripped in completely different places. The other's eyes and teeth were clenched and tight, his hands fisted. The chains that bound him were brilliant and red hot, hissing but not quite burning through the cloth and flesh. Yuugi frantically scanned the slab and the chains, searching for a lock to break before his self-control shattered, but his gaze kept flicking back up to his other's face.

Barely visible, the other Yuugi's lips moved, and barely audible, a gasp of pain reached out. 'Please,' it said without words. 'I'm sorry,' it said in fewer movements. It begged, it pleaded, it cried, it screamed, all in a single gasp, a single word.

"_Aibou..._"

Orpheus turned in the mouth of the cave; Yuugi jumped and scrambled onto the stone slab, and without thought he started yanking at the chains, climbing atop and straddling the other Yuugi without hesitation. Yuugi yanked on the chains, but they were as strong as iron and did not lift far enough to move in any way productive. Yuugi did not scream, or cry, even though the frustration of being _right there_ and unable to do anything was clogging his throat. He shook, and shuddered, and released the warm chains, and he placed his hands on the junctures of the other Yuugi's shoulders and neck. Yuugi leaned forward.

"Other me," he muttered softly, "I'm here, I'm here, but I don't know what to do." The other Yuugi did not respond, merely continuing to writhe in trapped agony under Yuugi. Yuugi sat back up, and with shaking hands he grabbed the swaying Puzzle.

"Please," he asked, "help me. Help me break this, help me bring him back..."

With a growl of frustration Yuugi tore the Puzzle from around his neck and began hacking at the taut, suspended bits of chain, hearing the rattle and clash of metal against metal loudly in his ears.

"Let him go!" he shouted, not even seeing the sparks of friction fly as he tried ineffectively smashing the chain. It shook under the force, but nothing else. Yuugi did not care at this point, rage and frustration pumping through every fiber of him. "He's not yours to chain," several more slams of the Puzzle against the chain, the racket getting louder and the other Yuugi still churning in pain, the blood from Yuugi's hands dripping and splattering on the Puzzle and the chain and the slab and all, "not yours to hurt, not yours, not— not—"

Yuugi's entire body clenched; his jaw tightened, his eyes shut, his hand holding the Puzzle ached, the other hand still braced on the other's shoulder, and he was shaking in the force of his hammering on the chain.

"He's my other self, not Saikoro, not named, not anyone else – he's _mine!_"

There was no great explosion, or light, or a feel of motion; when Yuugi shouted the words, he felt the chains beneath him, resisting him, and then he did not.

When Yuugi opened his eyes, there were no chains holding the other Yuugi, and the tightened muscles of his face and body had begun to relax. Clambering off the other Yuugi's body, Yuugi checked for any other signs of binding before gently wiping the nightmare sweat from that flushed brow and, just as softly, gave it a small peck of a kiss.

Wary of his surroundings, and not daring to wait any longer, Yuugi carefully pulled and lifted the other Yuugi from his dormant sprawl. The Puzzle, which Yuugi had neglected to replace around his neck, sat hauntingly on the dark black slab, and Yuugi shifted the other Yuugi's weight in order to grab the cord, not daring to let go of his other self.

As he pulled the Pyramid across the dark surface, Yuugi noticed the worrying trail of amber light left upon the stone surface, and how that light quickly branched and crossed and webbed along the stone, weaving in and out in an ornate geometric net.

Instinctively, Yuugi knew this portended Bad Things.

The voices that chorused together were both familiar to Yuugi and complete strangers, and trying to ignore them Yuugi dragged the recalcitrant Pyramid away from the nearly glowing slab, more gold now than black. The words were ones Yuugi did not recognize in his limited exposure to foreign languages: it could have been Latin, or Russian, or Arabic for all he knew, and as many times as the words repeated he could not make sense of them.

The platform was nearly all gold now, and he realized it wasn't merely a slab of large stone or anything similar – it was a box of some kind, for he could see the gouged black seam between lid and container as contrasted to the golden light. Still struggling to both carry the dead weight of his other self (he dared not let go) and pull the Puzzle away from the thing that was looking more like an extraordinarily large casket than anything else, the chanting got louder and with a cry and a final yank the Puzzle pulled free from the casket. It swung heavily from Yuugi's hand like a pendulum. With a bit of maneuvering Yuugi swung the Pyramid onto the chest of his other self, and he began following the trail of blood prints and the white scar the Puzzle had left on the floor.

Walking the path back out, even carrying the unconscious yet shaking body of the other Yuugi, was a much quicker journey. Yuugi, every other hour or so, would sit upon the white trail path and try to awaken the other Yuugi to limited success. The most he had gotten thus far was very thinly opened eyes and a murmured "_aibou?_" but the tone was calm and fatigued, and did not actively increase Yuugi's worry.

By the time he finally crossed the doorway back into the dark hallway, Yuugi was staggering; although in this realm the other Yuugi weighed only as much as a small child, fatigue still wracked Yuugi's arms and he only wished he could crawl into a bed and sleep for the next several thousand years. He leaned back against the closed and cold stone door, shifting the weight of the other Yuugi in his arms.

"We're almost out now, other me; do you feel like waking up yet?"

He was merely asleep now, for the other Yuugi pressed his face harder against Yuugi's chest, grumbling. Yuugi smiled, tightening his grip, and began following the trail once more.

It had not been something Yuugi imagined himself ever doing – carrying anyone, let alone another man, bridal style like this. He knew he was being pessimistic for once, but Yuugi had never actually imagined himself ever getting married, the one occasion where it would actually be necessary for him to do so; he short stature and constant placement in the role of 'victim' made rescuing others seem laughable. But here, in this place-not-place, Yuugi had been able to actually do something good, had helped someone he actually cared for, someone precious to him, and it was _Yuugi_ who did it – not Yuugi's family, not his friends, not some spirit of a Pharaoh who popped in to save the day when things got rough. Yuugi had been able to live without his other self for a while now, managing on his own. Sure, he thought as he walked, he had been almost crazy with fear that he wouldn't be able to protect himself, but he had _managed_, and probably could have continued to do so. Yuugi did not actually _need_ the other Yuugi.

It was a jarring thought, and it made Yuugi hold the other Yuugi more fervently and walk slightly faster, as if the thought would take the other away. There! Yuugi saw the light from the open doorway of the childish bedroom, and he hastened towards it.

He might not _need_ the other Yuugi in his head, or heart, but Yuugi certainly _wanted_ him there. Yuugi _liked_ having someone who would stay with him through anything, he liked having someone to confide to; hell, he even liked the feel of the other Yuugi in his arms, and liked the residual taste of the other Yuugi's sweat on his lips.

Entering the room that no longer had a door, and kicking stray toys out of the way, Yuugi gently laid the other Yuugi upon the mattress, moving the Puzzle and removing the other's shoes. Yuugi tugged free the soft blankets, and kicking off his own shoes he climbed under the covers as well. He did not _need_ the other Yuugi, he thought fondly as he pushed himself in closer, sliding his arm across the other Yuugi's chest and hugging their two bodies tight together, laying his head on the other's shoulder. The other Yuugi was _wanted_, and that was enough.

He was, after all, everything Yuugi had wished for on the Puzzle.

* * *

--

* * *

The light that awoke Yuugi was an inconstant thing, cut every few seconds by a slash of darkness, making the early morning light much more annoying. He could feel that he was moving, the awareness of motion in a vehicle coming to his mind; he could feel the wind getting sliced into the cabin by an errant open window, at which point it would circle the area like an eddy before making its way back out again.

Even though it was not where Yuugi fell asleep, he knew he was lying in a bed on a train before he even opened his eyes. The sight of swiftly moving trees out the window above and before him did little to disprove this notion. Yuugi clenched his eyes shut, burrowing back under the covers and rolling away from the cheery solar reminder of there being a rest of the universe.

The feel of arms around him remaining stationary while he moved was not particularly interesting to his fatigued body; the chest in which he was able to hide his face was just a better blockade from the accursed morning sun, and Yuugi accepted this presence easily. It was not until the chest in front of him shook in laughter and the arms tightened around him that Yuugi bothered to acknowledge the entity with a muffled "mmph?" of inquiry.

One of the hands stole up into Yuugi's hair and grazed his skin with blunt nails, like inefficient but wonderfully pleasant plows unable to pierce the field's soil.

"Ready to wake up yet, _aibou?_" The gentle baritone was as light as the sunbeams now assailing Yuugi's back, and he shook his head against the torso.

"Too early," muttered Yuugi against the warmth, wrapping his arms around the other and pulling him into a tighter embrace, feeling the arms around him squeeze lightly in return. Yuugi wasn't awake enough to even think about the sensory feedback loop, and pointedly ignored the part of his mind that wanted to analyze further. "Too tired. Hurts," Yuugi continued, yawning. The hand made another pass through his thick, dark hair.

"_Aibou_," said the other, a humor and joy in his voice that was new to Yuugi but entirely welcome after so long without even cold indifference or merciless anger, "you don't have to hold me so tightly; I'm not going anywhere."

In response, Yuugi's grip merely held on tighter, and had it not been for the fact Yuugi's nails were too short, they would have left painful crescents in the other's back.

"Not again," replied Yuugi, trying to force himself back to sleep before he did something ridiculous like sob, and he might have succeeded had the arms around him not suddenly pushed him out of that comforting embrace. He just wanted to _sleep_, but there was a hand nudging Yuugi's chin and a pet name being called (and how had he never realized that it was a pet name all along, like darling?), and he could not ignore this. Yuugi blearily looked into the too-close worried gaze of the other Yuugi, not wanting to deal with such emotions after just waking up.

"What do you mean, 'again'?" asked the other, perplexed. "I haven't gone anywhere before. I've never left you, you know that."

Yuugi could not help the scowl from crossing his face, both at the statement and at the further emerging of his mental facilities. When Yuugi partially raised himself, propped upon one elbow, it was not to examine the lavishly furnished KaibaCorp private train sleep car, with its merrily bolted-down furniture and lavish magnetic game tables; he did it because his reawakening logic sensors were wondering what the hell he thought he was doing, embracing the mostly invisible, partially physical manifestation of a voice living in his head. He was not quite awake enough to stage an adequate rebuttal.

"You don't remember?"

The movement was so fast, Yuugi was hearing the squeak of the mattress springs before he realized the other Yuugi had not only pressed Yuugi back flat into the mattress, but was now propped up above him with a look of such deep and absolute terror that Yuugi flinched under that serious gaze.

"_Aibou_," he said in a calm so perfectly cultured that Yuugi could feel the desperation in his core twisting at him like a corkscrew, "what, precisely, do you mean by 'not again' and 'you don't remember?' "

Yuugi, of course, had lost time in his memory – patches of days just gone with little reason, but after the first few he had bottled up his fear and hidden it away so as not to frighten away his friends. To Yuugi, a blank spot wasn't too frightening a scenario – scary, but not debilitating in the way Yuugi could see his other self taking it. Of course, the other Yuugi had lost much more than a few hours in his time: he'd lost his name and very _identity_. After innumerable years of unceasing ignorance, every waking hour must have been so much more precious to Yuugi's other self than they were to Yuugi alone.

Yuugi took a steadying breath, and hoped that his other self would not react too badly to the story. (Though it did put a further damper on Yuugi's good mood: after all, where was the fun in rescuing someone if they didn't even remember that they needed rescue to begin with, let alone you doing it?)

"Do you remember... fighting with Kaiba-kun in his office, at the Tower?"

The reaction was not one that boded well at all.

"Kaiba? Why would I have had need to fight Kaiba? I've played him in a Dark Game, and I assigned him a Penalty. He's not—"

"—The same person who stole grandfather's precious card?" Yuugi interrupted with a frown, "and no one escapes a Dark Game unscathed?"

The other Yuugi frowned as well. "Not even victors. I remember saying this, but—"

Yuugi rolled the other Yuugi to lie down upon the mattress once more, making sure not to push the other through the mattress itself; each of them were now upon their sides and facing one another.

"What do you remember about our trip to the Tower?"

The other Yuugi's expression only turned sourer. "I remember entering, and how you convinced the Englishmen to sneak us up. I remember you beating that puzzle door—"

"That was us," interjected Yuugi, "I couldn't have done it without you."

Briefly the other Yuugi smiled, though it was only a quirk of his lips and a softening of the muscles around his eyes. "I remember the batty old woman in the wheelchair, and that she sent us to Kaiba's floor, and." The other Yuugi stopped, scowling. "And Kaiba arrived, and... we must have passed out. Did he hurt you, _aibou?_"

Unsure how to proceed, Yuugi pursed his lips in thought and turned his gaze away; seeing that as his answer, the look of rage was instant, and the other Yuugi had risen briskly from the bed before he shouted, "if I see that bastard, I will _destroy him! _I will shatter his heart beyond repair and curse his family name, I'll—"

Yuugi too left the bed, grabbing the other Yuugi from behind by wrapping an arm around the other's stomach. "Kaiba-kun didn't intend to hurt us!" he said with conviction, throat tight with worry as he circled around the tense-locked stiff form of his other self. "He didn't try to kill us – he's actually helping us get back to Domino—"

The other Yuugi's hands desperately grabbed Yuugi's shoulders, digging fingers into the muscle, his expression wild. "Going _back_ to Domino? _Aibou_, you'll be killed if we go back, and— what happened to our disguise?"

A shaking, nervous hand combed up into Yuugi's dark spikes of black hair, standing tall and proud like a crown, before coming forward to touch one of Yuugi's not-exactly-bleached-blond locks. The anger seemed to dissipate from the other's body, and Yuugi felt the other hand on his shoulder fall slack and slide off.

"Sweet mother of – _aibou_... how much time have I lost?" The other Yuugi looked so worried and scared that Yuugi instantly knew the other was thinking in terms of months and seasons. Yuugi placed his hands on the other's shoulders and gave as comforting an expression as he could.

"Not as long as you think, other me," he said, guiding the other Yuugi back to the bed, whereupon they both sat tensely next to one another, Yuugi's hands resting now atop the other's, "you've missed... you've been _unconscious_ for a about a week now. You haven't actually lost more than half an hour of real time, and... considering the circumstances, it's completely understandable."

The other Yuugi sat in a deject silence as Yuugi briefly recounted the past several days – what had happened with Kaiba that first day, and how lost and scared Yuugi had felt without his other self, how he had intentionally gambled with criminals and with his own safety in an attempt to call out the other Yuugi, but instead how Yuugi had to overcome the danger himself; how he had been abducted by the Titan of the Marsh, and discovering her relation to him; Yuugi briefly skimmed over how he had gotten Kaiba to agree to get him a fair trial in Domino (sure that if the other Yuugi knew precisely what Yuugi had promised – including his own murder, and that Kaiba had _accepted_ such an offer – Kaiba would not survive the night), and how Yuugi had himself braved the labyrinth of nowhere to rescue the other Yuugi from his imprisonment within the Puzzle.

"And then we woke up on a train. The end."

The other Yuugi remained silent for a long time, even as Yuugi called to him and prompted him for a response. Without a word, the other Yuugi stood from the bed, his jaw clenched. Yuugi did not stand to stop the other, but quickly regretted his inaction when the other Yuugi let loose a growl and a cry of frustration and anger, sweeping his arm through the air as if to knock over some invisible foe. Had it been Yuugi in his place doing the same, the action would not have reached anything save air, but in the wake of the other Yuugi's sweeping arm the pieces on one of the magnetic chess sets several feet away slid quickly across the chessboard, many tumbling and shattering on the train car floor. Kings and rooks and opponent's pawns mingled together on the ground like stardust.

The other Yuugi turned, seeking something else to destroy in his impotent rage, but Yuugi was faster, having sprung to his feet, and he rushed the other Yuugi. Before the destruction could continue, Yuugi had begun to physically restrain the other. With the other Yuugi off balance from the surprise attack, Yuugi flung his other self down onto the mattress, following quickly after to both pin the other from rising up again and from sinking through the mattress. The other Yuugi tried bucking and tossing his captor in order to escape in any direction, but Yuugi's legs were clenched too tightly, and his hands had firm grips on the other's wrists, pinning him down too effectively. They were equally matched in physical strength, and with the advantage of leverage Yuugi had won the match.

"Other me, calm down!" Yuugi cried, plaintively staring into the eyes of his other self, they most striking physical difference between the two of him, "please! You're not at fault, there was nothing you could have done!"

The other Yuugi nearly snarled back. "But isn't that wonderful! Nothing I could do? You could have been _killed_ and I wouldn't have been able to do anything – I wouldn't have even _known!_" The other Yuugi tried rolling for freedom, but Yuugi pushed him back down.

"But I didn't need you to rescue me, I rescued myself – I rescued _you! _Why is this so frustrating to you?"

The other Yuugi turned his face away from Yuugi's, but Yuugi was not pleased with this apparent surrender – it made him furious.

"Oh, so it's a _bad_ thing that I did something for you for once? Angry that you had to be saved by stupid, pathetic little Yuugi?"

"No," murmured the other, but Yuugi didn't stop.

"Oh, I see. Yuugi's not allowed to do things for himself, Yuugi can't fend for himself, Yuugi's _hopeless_ and _useless_ without his other self—" Yuugi fought back his sorrow as his own insecurity came to light, plaguing him in the shadows of his heart since their escape from Domino, fears that Yuugi had only recently been able to conquer and prove wrong – and the other Yuugi was angered that Yuugi could fend for himself? How dare he!

"How dare you," whispered Yuugi in a snarl, his hands trying to fist but impeded by their hold on the other Yuugi's wrists. "I don't need you looking down on me too. How _dare_ you try to turn me into... into a damned _girl_ who needs to be saved? I'm a man too, and I don't need this shit from you. I don't need you."

The other Yuugi had been whispering objections, but Yuugi hadn't heard them, but now he could see that his other self had his eyes and jaw clenched shut, as though trying to ignore Yuugi.

"Did you hear me? I don't need you!"

At that the other Yuugi snapped his gaze to Yuugi's, and Yuugi nearly recoiled at the utter anguish he saw there now. His eyes weren't wet, but god he looked on the verge of crying—

"Break the Puzzle," the other Yuugi managed to choke out, hiccuping under Yuugi's body. "I'd rather be resealed in darkness than have you... you..."

"Have me what?" Yuugi whispered, the anger gone from his body at the sight of the other Yuugi's complete despair. The other's lips were actually _quivering_ like a child's.

"Have you hate me."

Yuugi's entire body slackened with the blow, but the other Yuugi made no move to escape. He merely turned his face from Yuugi's once more, still despairing, still shaking beneath Yuugi, but Yuugi could now see the change in the way he closed off his emotions in his face. The other Yuugi was _resigned_. Yuugi's body was flooded with ice, and he was sinking into despair – were these his emotions, or his other self's? Was their anger and despair feeding into one another again, was that how the other Yuugi had come to such a ridiculous conclusion? Yuugi released the other Yuugi's arms, and after redistributing his weight on an elbow into the mattress, he gently touched the cheek of his other self, who wasn't really Yuugi at all; he was a spirit, a Pharaoh, but not Yuugi.

"I don't hate you," he said, but the other Yuugi just flinched. Yuugi forced back a scowl and smiled instead. "I don't hate you. I never have, I never _could_, why—?"

"You hate me," interrupted the other, his face still turned, eyes still closed. "You never wanted me, you don't need me, I've done nothing but cause you suffering; you _hate_ me. I'd rather—"

"No. Look at me."

Very reluctantly the other Yuugi (not Yuugi, never Yuugi) turned, and opened his eyes. Under that stare Yuugi climbed off the other, and pulled them both up to sitting. Yuugi then spoke with calm and force, like how his father always used to when he was alive.

"I do not hate you. What I said about not wanting you was a lie. I was angry, and depressed, and I wanted to lash out. You were the only one there, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't apologize sooner." Yuugi placed a hand atop one of the other's hands, but he did not turn his gaze away from those shielded, stony eyes, but still so obviously filled with hurt. "About not needing you... that is true. I don't need you. But! Me not needing you doesn't mean I want you to leave. I _like_ being able to depend on you. I _like_ knowing that if things ever get too tough for me, you'll be there – just like I want you to know I'll be there for _you_." Yuugi closed his eyes and squeezed the other Yuugi's hands, and he gave out a breathless little laugh when he felt that hand turn under his own and squeeze back.

"This past week, while you were gone... yes, I managed. I could play games, evade danger, survive... but I was never happy. None of my victories felt like victories. Losing you... it was like losing Jounouchi-kun, or my father, all over again – but it would have been a hundred, a thousand times worse than either of those if I thought I could never get you back. Don't ask me to kill you."

Yuugi opened his eyes, memorizing the way the other tried so hard to keep his face stoic, the way his face looked puffy from crying even though no tears were shed.

"I'd sooner kill myself."

The other Yuugi, semitransparent but nearly pale in turmoil, was shaking where he sat, shaking from suppressing dry sobs, and Yuugi knew because that's what he was doing too even if Yuugi's were wet. Whatever tension or wire it was that held them still was shaking too, but when Yuugi's hand slid from the other's it snapped, and they both nearly jolted into the embrace, their murmurs of 'never go' and 'never leave' were promises and threats and pleadings, and in their turmoil they merely held one another, shaking and swaying in the train's unceasing journey.


	14. in which some rules are established

**Sight the King  
**14/21  
"in which some rules are established"

* * *

**_ready to spit fire against his enemies._**

* * *

It was some time later, after all their emotions had been poured out and calmed like so much water going into parched soil, that Yuugi realized something was very strange about what had just happened.

"Other me," Yuugi said, peering out at the train car from over the other's shoulder, not pulling from the embrace.

"Mmm '_aibou?_"

"You're... a spirit, and only I can see you, right?" Yuugi felt the nod against his shoulder, and the weak sensation of feedback, and the other's hair tickled Yuugi's ear.

"Only you can see me," he said, his voice low and glad and bordering on sing-song, "only you can hear me, touch me, know me. Only you."

Yuugi nodded, relaxing backwards slightly out of the embrace to look at the face of his other self, whose identical-to-Yuugi's cheeks pulled at his identical-to-Yuugi's lips into a partial smile, his eyes half closed between awareness and sleep.

"And did we... did we ever figure out why?"

The other Yuugi closed his eyes, but his smile did not falter. "When I touch anything but you," he said softly, "I do not feel it because you do not. Whatever emotion I feel, or you feel, we both feel."

"And we loop."

The other nodded, and still his eyes were closed, but Yuugi's attention had shifted to the glitter on the cabin floor.

"It's as though, by sharing your body with me, you share your senses, even while you are in control of it. I want you to see me, you see me. I want you to hear me, you do."

"That's what I thought too," said Yuugi with a frown, "until you broke the chess set."

The other Yuugi's blind contemplation instantly broke as he spun to gaze at the accusative glitter of the broken rooks. The other Yuugi stammered somewhat unintelligibly.

"If you're a spirit bound to me," prodded Yuugi, "then how—?"

"I don't know," the other replied, turning to stare at his hands instead. Worried, Yuugi trailed his fingers lightly over the skin of the backs of the other's hands, noticing with some amusement that even their freckles fell in the same places. "I know that I have dominion over all games, but I did not realize it went to such an extent."

Yuugi's fingers slowed at the phrase, and with a sudden realization he pulled his hand away as if burned, and the other Yuugi merely watched with both amusement and dejection.

"Keh, I do not think you would fall under such a category, _aibou_," he said, and Yuugi gave an embarrassed laugh.

"Well, it's still— to think that you can— even without—!"

The other Yuugi smiled. "It is unexpected, yes."

Yuugi laughed. "I was going to go with 'fucking weird,' but that works too."

Yuugi was not sure what else to say, or do after that – it is therefore fortunate for him then that the train itself broke their silence with a series of squeals and the distinctive hiss of the train's slowing movements. The other looked towards the door at the end of the cabin twenty or so feet away before turning back to Yuugi. Out the window, Yuugi could see the grand spires of Domino's historic train station, and he realized they were now only mere city blocks away from the bus station where they had started their journey. To think, they'd only left this city two weeks ago! With how much that had happened, Yuugi was shocked that it had been only so short a time compared to the rest of the world.

Warm arms wrapped around Yuugi from the side of him, feeling solid and warm, and Yuugi allowed himself to be turned in that embrace, feeling the other's face pressed against his, cheek to cheek. The sensations were still amplified – though Yuugi knew the other was behind him, Yuugi could feel body heat in his own arms, and his bare cheek felt the press of another's as well, but after so long without true human contact, Yuugi's mind was working in overdrive to adapt to the haptic input to keep him 'sane.' So long as they were not mimicking exactly, Yuugi remembered, every touch would 'only' feel echoed and not mind-numbingly intense.

Yuugi was glad that his other self was sitting behind Yuugi, and thus could not see how red Yuugi's face flushed when his thoughts jumped from intense sensations to imagining _other_ intense sensations; Yuugi would be mortified at the jesting inquiries.

"Mm," said the other, "your cheek feels hot, _aibou_. Are you all right?"

Yuugi's face was the red side of a Rubik's cube. "... Maybe you should go back to being my shadow," he said, trying to keep his voice steady but not unkind, "see what's going on?"

The other Yuugi did not verbally respond, but Yuugi could feel the way the skin seemed to evaporate against Yuugi's until Yuugi felt only the bed upon which he sat and the Domino air, still cutting in through the open window in the train's final slowing movements. Yuugi pushed himself from the bed, spotting his rucksack against the opposite wall, and Yuugi's shadow spun around his feet like a lost compass as he walked.

_It is very difficult to detect the movements of others when all the ground is shaking_, wrote the shadow, and for the first time Yuugi almost heard the words echo in his mind as well. Were they getting to the point where, even manifesting outside Yuugi's body, they could still communicate within the confines of his mind? _God_ how Yuugi had missed the sound of being not alone in his head!

"Train cars aren't very well connected to one another in the first place, other me," Yuugi said softly as he quickly assessed that all his belongings were accounted for. It was as he stood that Kaiba Seto himself strode in through the cabin door, throwing something large and black at Yuugi without pause. Yuugi fumbled the catch (he'd never been good at sports, after all), but he still identified the item readily.

"Come on," said Kaiba, turning back to leave, holding a second, matching item under his arm, "You're my bitch."

Yuugi shoved the helmet on over his hair, ignoring the way his shadow had nearly exploded in a smattering of obscenities before all of them recombined, and the shadow retracted to Yuugi.

_What. Did. He. Just. Say? _

"I didn't know you had a motorcycle license, Kaiba-kun," Yuugi said, trying to keep the other Yuugi from surging forward and challenging Kaiba to a Dark Game for the comment. _Just let it go, other me,_ he replied, _it's just a biking term. _

_That is NOT what he implied, aibou!_

Yuugi didn't bother to ask Kaiba how he could have gotten the license, being younger than Yuugi and thus much lower than the legal age; if Yuugi knew anything, it was that for the obscenely rich like Kaiba, there wasn't anything a person couldn't get if they threw enough money at it.

Even, he thought sourly as he followed Kaiba off the train and into the station, grandfather's precious Blue Eyes White Dragon.

_Aibou..._, responded the other, his 'voice' softer, anger pushed aside, _you've only sold him the opportunity to win the card. We both know he can never win in a duel against either of us, let alone us both working together._

Yuugi smiled, pulling down his helmet's visor as he and Kaiba and Kaiba's troupe of four bodyguards strode through the station proper. It was early afternoon, and the station was crowded, but no one even looked twice at Yuugi. He was grateful for the helmet, hiding his instantly recognizable hair, even if everyone still would be looking for Jounouchi as the murderer of those pop stars. In fact, Yuugi thought wryly, if people recognized Kaiba and his bodyguards, they probably assumed that the short kid in the leather and the biker helmet was Kaiba's younger brother Mokuba.

Hidden from view Yuugi scowled at that thought, but eventually they arrived in the small parking lot of the station. The motorcycle was easy enough to spot with its three-man guard, situated as it was far, far away from all the other vehicles in the area. As Kaiba approached the bike, all seven of the suits seemed to drop into the background, letting their boss do what he would. Kaiba straddled the bike easily, and Yuugi followed onto the back as quickly as he could. Kaiba gunned the engine, and Yuugi felt mortified as he was forced to wrap his arms around Kaiba in an instant death grip when the jackass started peeling out before the machine had even gotten balanced on its wheels.

The machine roared as they almost flew onto the city streets, weaving between cars and pedestrians and bicycles alike. Yuugi watched his hometown zip by in a blur, his hangouts and haunts and favorite restaurants flashing past. Had they gone slower, Yuugi would have felt sappy and nostalgic, but instead he and his other self were both cursing profusely and worrying and swearing to inflict bodily harm on Kaiba just as soon as they weren't in mortal peril. Kaiba was running traffic signals everywhere – including in front of the police station – without a hint of worry.

After they started getting on the more isolated roads and into the richer part of Domino, Kaiba's acceleration slowed a kilometer or two, but even that was appreciated.

_It wouldn't be so worrisome if I were in control, _grumbled Yuugi's other self, and Yuugi smiled.

_Oh? _he asked, _do you want to switch? I didn't know you had a desire to cling to Kaiba-kun._

The other sputtered. _What? No! I meant if I were steering the abomination. _There was a slight pause, and the spirit continued in a teasing voice, _do you not want to share the feel of Kaiba's rugged back, aibou?_

Yuugi bit his lip to keep from cracking, and hoped Kaiba wouldn't notice how his body was jerking from suppressed laughter.

_Oh, you know me, _Yuugi replied with a smile, _this past week was so lonely without you, _

_And Kaiba was willing to offer a hand? _

Yuugi clenched his eyes and teeth and tried to suppress his silent laughter, not wanting to distract Kaiba from driving and thus crashing into a tree and killing them all, but he wasn't succeeding and he knew it.

_Mmph, and now that you're awake,_ Yuugi replied slyly; the other was laughing in Yuugi's mind, and Yuugi was dying from his amusement. _He'll be getting two for the price of one! _

_Considering how obsessed he is with gaming,_ noted the other, _he'd probably enjoy playing with two Yuugis. _

_Gah! Bad images! _Yuugi cried, his eyes in actual pain from squeezing them so tightly closed, his helmet pressed into Kaiba's back. _It's a marine sandwich! Seahorse, trapped between twin starfish! _

There was no stopping the laughter now – Yuugi was gasping for breath while the other Yuugi wondered if that would be a good dish to eat, and Kaiba had no idea why Yuugi was having such difficulty staying still.

After another five minutes of bad puns and even worse impersonating (and some exclamations of _pervert!_ when one of them mentioned matching two Yuugis with a Kaiba and a half, but Yuugi couldn't remember which of them mentioned Mokuba first), the motorcycle's engine cut, parking easily. Yuugi flung himself off the stationary bike, pulling off his helmet and finally allowing himself to choke out a few seconds of pained laughter.

Kaiba merely stared for a moment, shaking his head. "Was I going too fast for you, Yuugi-kun?"

He couldn't help it – Yuugi dropped the helmet and doubled over laughing again, and the other Yuugi was trying to make a joke about Kaiba's stamina around his own laughter, and Yuugi _knew_ he looked insane. Kaiba merely walked away without him, so Yuugi had to make his own mirthful way to Kaiba's mansion without a guide.

After a moment, the shadow of Yuugi rose from the ground and formed into the semi-transparent apparition of his other self.

"I don't know, _aibou_," he said, sighing through gossamer-transparent lips, "I'm not sure if Kaiba's going to keep dating you if you allow your other self to mock him in the shadows of your heart."

Yuugi heaved a theatrical sigh, pressing his hands to his chest. " 'Seto, my darling,' " he said, doing his very best not to break character, " 'that was the _other me._ You know I love you, and I'm sorry that you've lost three more employees to insanity...' I think you're right; it would never work out. Oh, other me!" he exclaimed with laughter, pitching his voice up to falsetto, "my love has deserted me for entirely reasonable... reasons! My life is over! Hand me the dagger given to me by my father, for I have invoked great shame upon my family! Woe!"

"_Aibou_," the other Yuugi said, and Yuugi nearly spat and choked with laughter at the other Yuugi's ridiculously exaggerated bass voice, "if Kaiba cannot see how truly pure and innocent you are—"

"As if!" Yuugi interjected playfully.

"And how beautiful is your soul, and your heart of light and candy and flowers—" Yuugi was stumbling and hacking on his laughter at the way that ridiculously deep voice said such stupid things, "—and how your eyes shimmer like stars trapped in gemstones—"

"Stop, you're going to kill me!"

"—then he does not deserve your radiant love. Come!" The other Yuugi seized him around the waist and flung him over an arm, like ballroom dancers, so almost all of Yuugi's weight was supported by a mostly invisible arm, "let us run away together!"

"Not again!" Yuugi groaned, placing the back of his wrist against his forehead in a gesture of theatric woe, but the other Yuugi was not yet done.

"But it will be full of romance!" he protested, still in that ridiculously bass voice, "and love! And occasional kittens! _In love!_"

"You know," said Yuugi in his own, normal voice, "if anyone were watching, they'd think I was stark raving mad." He paused. "And that my balance is _amazing. _"

The other Yuugi smirked, letting Yuugi's weight slip a little bit, but did not release him to fall. "Let's get married and have a thousand babies. You get to carry them."

"Wait, why am I the woman?" Yuugi protested, pulling himself back to standing. He tried huffing away from the other, but the mansion was still a good five minute long walk away. (And how had Kaiba disappeared so _fast?_)

" 'Oh, other me!' " The other Yuugi mimicked, his falsetto not nearly as high as Yuugi's. He added, in his own baritone, "You started it."

"Heh, if I weren't straight—" (which he might not be, his mind protested softly, considering how often the other Yuugi made him feel... _well_.) "—and you weren't dead, and we each had a physical body to leave behind, I would get us adjacent burial plots, or share our urns, or something." Yuugi joked, but the other Yuugi seemed to be drifting towards more ridiculous thoughts.

"I don't see what sexual preference has to do with dead bodies, _aibou_. Is there something you should tell me?"

Yuugi laughed, and shook his head. "No... I guess it doesn't. Well, I could always have the Puzzle buried with me, or bind myself to it—"

"I do not recommend it."

"—but I was implying that we'd be the equivalent of married, playing off your 'Yuugi, have my babies' moment, though how I would explain _that_ one to Mom—"

"You could blame the 'Magic of the Puzzle,' " he said in an intentionally too-innocent way. Yuugi was having difficulty not laughing, so he stopped trying to fight his joy.

"That too, but I was thinking more along the lines of 'the father is an invisible guy who lives in my head who would probably be my twin brother if he _wasn't_ an invisible guy in my head, but since he's not he isn't' bit."

"But you know," the other said playfully, with a smile and a laugh, "the sex would be _amazing._"

As they walked together to Kaiba's mansion Yuugi was barely able to keep the flush from covering his entire face. Yeah, Yuugi was pretty sure he was mostly straight, but when he'd been kissed by Rue-chan in their last year at middle school at the festival, it was nothing compared to simply touching _foreheads_ with his other self, and Yuugi didn't know if there was _anyone_ who could make Yuugi feel as happy and wonderful as the other Yuugi did today without even trying.

Yuugi laughed, and sprinted ahead, letting the other Yuugi chase after him – distracting him from Yuugi's lack of response to that last line. Anyway, to Yuugi's ears, it had sounded less like a joke and more like a promise.

* * *

--

* * *

Yuugi's return to Domino was not precisely what he had expected. Kaiba had essentially locked Yuugi in one of his mansion's lesser-used wings, since neither he nor Yuugi really wanted him in police custody straight off. Kaiba had hired a team of top-notch attorneys and investigators to comb up everything they could find about Yuugi's case and the Sasori sisters: history of violence, motive, a reason they were living in a run-down apartment building in Domino when they owned three houses from Titan to Monopolis alone. Yuugi was, of course, to stay out of sight until they had enough evidence to stand a shot against the obscenely high conviction rate.

Although the rooms Yuugi was permitted to wander were numerous and large, he was feeling anxious and slightly claustrophobic. Grandmother Kameyo must have felt something similar in her isolation in the Tower, though of course even handicapped as she was she was allowed to _leave_. Yuugi did, however, get the chance to catch up on the news published about his case – something he had neglected while in Titan.

The hospital had, in one of the earliest articles, released information about his surgery, and how 'anyone with half a brain could tell that the kid couldn't have possibly shot himself' because the angle of entry was apparently all wrong. It never was mentioned again. Hikari had a permit for a gun, and neighbors were apparently surprised they hadn't been killed sooner, what with how often they were volunteering with the homeless and, like such good Samaritans, allowing strangers to stay overnight in their apartment.

There were a couple of quotes from Yuugi's family; both his mother and grandfather staunchly stating that Yuugi was innocent, without a doubt, but of course the papers spun it as though they were the idealistic and blind affirmations of relatives who could not see the truth of Yuugi's nature.

In the interviews with Yuugi's classmates, however... in the early papers, from the day of Yuugi's incarceration to maybe two days after his escape, everyone thought he was innocent and framed. But, with each passing day, those affirmations of innocence grew fewer and fewer in comparison to the numerous claims that Yuugi categorically fit in with other school-aged murderers; how he was always the quiet one, the shy one, always bullied, how he didn't have many friends and how he often turned down his classmates' offers of companionship.

_"It was really only a matter of time before he lost it,"_ this article quoted Honda Hiroto as saying, merely a week into Yuugi's absence, _"I'd told Jounouchi that the kid was bad news, and look what happened!" _

_"It probably started when Yuugi-kun's father was killed,"_ said Anzu only a couple days ago, and Yuugi's blood ran cold. He'd never told anyone – not even Anzu – about what had happened to his father all those years ago. He hadn't had any close friends at the time, and he'd not wanted to make anyone else feel sad or sorry for something they couldn't control. It was the same reason he'd usually not told his family about the bullies at school – that's just how life was, and other people knowing wouldn't have changed it. Even years later, he still told anyone who asked that his father was always away on business. He wasn't ashamed – it just didn't matter what anyone else thought.

How, then, could Anzu know? He read on.

_"Yuugi was only nine at the time, I think. Somewhere around there. There was some political thing going on at the airport, and Yuugi's father got caught in the crossfire. Yuugi never told anyone about that – even he knew that you shouldn't trust a boy who grows up without a father—"_

Yuugi felt something grab his wrists, and startled he dropped the paper and looked up in surprise. The other Yuugi was kneeling in front of Yuugi in the armchair, the other's face tight.

"Do not distress yourself so, _aibou_," he said, calmingly.

"But she's my friend, other me! So is Honda-kun! Why would they say such cruel things about me?" Solid hands with a less-than-solid appearance rested on Yuugi's knees, and the other Yuugi shook his head.

"I do not know. When all this is over, we can confront her – confront them both – for this trespass against you."

Yuugi's body jerked at the phrase, remembering it being shouted to Kaiba before everything went to hell, remembering the fury with which the other said the words, remembering how close he could feel the other to—

Yuugi trapped the other's hands against his knees, and he shook his head. "No! You're not going to challenge them to Dark Games over this, other me! I... I know what you've done to the others, I know! And it stops now."

The other's grip on Yuugi's knees tightened, and Yuugi could see the fear in that gaze – though Yuugi couldn't understand why his other self should be afraid.

"You... you know? You saw?"

Yuugi shook his head, and grew even more worried when the other visibly relaxed.

"I didn't see you do it," Yuugi admitted, "but you left a trail, and Kaiba-kun found it. It all adds up—" Yuugi's voice did not get louder in his anger like it normally would; instead it softened to a hard whisper. "—the strangeness of it all, of my blackouts, the way that people who hurt me would just vanish. I'd suspected it before, but now to know just what you did—"

"_Aibou_, they—"

"_You set a man on fire!_" he hissed angrily, "who does that? Who deserves that? A dozen people saw you _kill_ a man by _burning him alive!_"

"He'd killed people – he hurt you – the Dark Games only reveal a person's heart, their true character, and punishes them—"

"—in equal accordance to their crimes," Yuugi admitted, his anger abating, "I know. But that isn't how the world works anymore, other me. You can't just _kill_ people like that because of it. We have a justice system for things like that—"

"It doesn't work very well, does it, _aibou_?" The other Yuugi raised himself to his knees and, freeing his hands from Yuugi's entrapment, pushed Yuugi further into the chair, until Yuugi's spine was pressed flat against the back cushion. "I know your heart, I can see how little faith you have in that system."

"But I do—"

"Then why did we _run, aibou_? If you trust it so much, then why did we run from it?"

Yuugi pursed his lips, his body nearly shaking in anger at the other's words. "I _wanted_ to stay, other me, remember? You wanted to use the Dark Games to escape, but I said no, and wanted to stay."

The hands on Yuugi's shoulders dug in painfully, though Yuugi did not cry out against it.

"Do not play the fool, _aibou_. I remember that day well." The other's face was angered, but not cruel, and his voice was level. "You did object at first, I recall, and I let the matter drop until we learned that the game was rigged. I offered you a way out; I offered you the means. You, _aibou_, are the one who swung the Axe, not I. You are the one who initiated the Game that allowed us to escape. Had you wanted to brave that system, had that truly been your desire, then you never would have touched the Axe. _You_ made the choice there, of trust."

The hands on Yuugi's shoulders relaxed and, as if sensing the pain caused, began a slow massage of Yuugi's tense muscles.

"A choice?" Yuugi asked, letting his body relax slightly under the inconstant hands gnawing away the tightness of his muscles. "What choice?"

"Your life was in danger," murmured the other, "from an unjust penalty. You could have placed your faith, your life, in the hands of your system, but instead you chose _me_ with your safety. You only now face their game when you can match their rigging of the game with an advantage of your own."

Yuugi gave a small 'mmph' of pain when those hands started kneading at the juncture of his neck and shoulders, but the other continued.

"So do not tell me to leave distributing justice to those who are inefficient and see with closed eyes. Was it not you who told me that the Millennium Puzzle was the greatest of all the Items, because it could punish justly? Even without the crime being known?"

The hands slid further up, pinching at the tight sinews on Yuugi's neck, just behind the curve of his jaw, further back than his ears, and Yuugi's body clenched as the fingers brushed the hair at the base of his skull.

"But—ah! —But I..." Yuugi's eyes slid closed, and he felt the other Yuugi climb onto the chair with him, calves pressing against Yuugi's legs, and with the extra leverage—

"But you what?" Yuugi's hands were clutching and releasing the arms of the chair in time with the massage of his shoulders again, the sensory feedback muted but still distracting. Struggling to focus, Yuugi stilled his own hands and looked up to meet the other's almost muted gaze.

"There's... there's been enough death, other me, enough insanity. I don't want to cause it, too. Please."

Yuugi watched the careful play on the other's face, the soft gaze and the brief scowl, and finally the hands stilled.

"All right. No more Dark Games without your permission." There was a smile on the other's face Yuugi wasn't sure he liked.

"You know I would never agree to one," Yuugi said, but the other just shook his head with a gentle laugh.

"Your mercy is too ready and too swift, _aibou_."

"As is your retribution, other me," Yuugi countered, "and mine can be corrected if proven wrong."

The other Yuugi merely rolled his own shoulders before attacking Yuugi's with greater skill, and were Yuugi not already pinned in place he would have slumped with pleasure.

"You know, if I didn't know any better," Yuugi said with eyes narrowed, his body lax, "I might think you were doing this to get in my pants."

The other Yuugi laughed. "You obviously know me so well. Are my true intentions so apparent?"

"Mmm-hmm," he murmured, "and I'm too comfortable to be mad. Or fight. Cheater."

"Nowhere do the rules say I can't distract you with something you want."

"What about you? What—" he yawned, "What do you want?"

Yuugi felt the hands slip from his shoulders, and the weight from his body, but he barely reacted to that, or to the way the other Yuugi pulled Yuugi to his feet, guiding him wearily across the room to the unmade bed. Yuugi didn't resist when the other Yuugi had to guide Yuugi's arm to move aside the covers – he even laughed a little when the other Yuugi started bouncing Yuugi's arm around like an unresisting doll – in order to cover Yuugi against the night chill.

Yuugi felt the other climb onto the bed after, pressing against him – Yuugi's back to the other's front (and faintly there was a body in front of Yuugi, but it was gaseous and felt only like the final echo rebounding from a cliff face). Faintly, as fatigue caught up with Yuugi, and as an arm wrapped around Yuugi's waist and torso, he felt the words whispered into his ear more than he heard them.

"Just to be here with you."

As Yuugi was falling asleep, comfortable and warm, an earlier conversation came to mind. The sex really would be amazing, if it didn't drive him insane first.

He could feel the other's laughter (had he actually said that _aloud?_), even as he began to dream.

* * *

--

* * *

It was at dinner, several days after Yuugi arrived, that Kaiba revealed the news.

"So long as you don't do anything unaccountably stupid," he said, while Yuugi was attempting to balance some bizarre French pasta precariously caught in his chopsticks, "we can get you an innocent verdict."

The dining room was like everything else in the Kaiba mansion – too large by half for even the obscenely rich, too empty, and everything was bright primary colors or dark, dark black. The chandeliers were ridiculous in size only because they were so high up, they would not be able to illuminate the room if they were even only moderately huge; the ceiling was probably three stories up, and it would take a mechanical lift to change the innumerable light bulbs. The dining table itself was ludicrous: it was probably designed to seat a hundred people, so having all three of them sitting at one end of the table seemed a bit insane. Kaiba, of course, was seated at the head of the table; Yuugi sat to his left, and Mokuba was on his right.

Yuugi fumbled the pasta a moment in his chopsticks, his dexterity with the utensils having deteriorated after even only three weeks of bad soup and fast food sandwiches. He set them down shakily, turning his attention to his host.

"You can? There's enough evidence?"

Mokuba laughed, and clicked his chopsticks at Yuugi in a manner that was probably meant to be threatening, but since Mokuba looked about as threatening as an old drowned cat, the action was merely silly. "Big brother could prove anything!" he boasted, clicking his chopsticks again as though they were the mouth of a hand puppet, "he could find a kappa in the desert if he wanted to!"

"Mokuba, Yuugi-kun doesn't need to hear your subservient worship. Leave him alone." The words were not harshly inflected, but Mokuba winced like a kicked animal that had long since learned better than to whimper at the blow. Mokuba reeled in his chopsticks, and with his head bowed began rearranging the corkscrew pasta on his plate.

Kaiba did not react as though he noticed this, but Yuugi could instantly see that he had and didn't care. Yuugi fought down his anger at Kaiba's maltreatment to his brother.

"My attorneys have made some... connections that are beneficial to your case, and recovered some damning evidence."

"That's great!" Yuugi took up his chopsticks once more, though now he stabbed the pasta as though he held skewers. "When will the trial start, do you know?"

Mokuba had started building up his pasta in a very stumpy tower, but Kaiba did not look in his brother's direction.

"We're going to speak with some people at the courthouse and try to get the opening trial started tomorrow morning—"

Yuugi's chopsticks clattered onto his plate, rolling slightly into the sauce, but neither of the Kaibas spared him a look of concern.

"To-tomorrow? Is that enough time? I mean—"

"The prosecution has had three weeks to prepare for your conviction, Yuugi. They're aiming for the death penalty, even though you're not of-age. We have to surprise them in every way we can, and if it means surprising them with new evidence then we will, and I'm not below initiating a first strike."

Yuugi bit his lip, but said nothing. Getting a 'first strike' wouldn't be an advantage in the courtroom; the only thing that would help Yuugi was lots and lots of evidence, or maybe a witness who had seen everything (except for maybe the Dark Game, as Yuugi still didn't know the particulars of what went on in one of those other than the result). Yuugi ferried more pasta into his mouth, his eyes straying to Mokuba's short rook-like tower of noodles, before he turned back to Kaiba once more. Kaiba ate with a fork.

"Do you think they'll let me talk to—?"

"No."

Yuugi's mouth closed at the terse reply, and he felt the press of the other Yuugi against his eyes like a migraine with a foul mouth and a worse temper. Yuugi's chopsticks rebelled against their servitude once more, falling into the pasta with a reckless abandon, splattering some of the thick, white cheese sauce around the perimeter of the dish, and the globs of white against the black of the table shined like gelatinous stars.

Yuugi pushed away from the table, his excuses quiet and unacknowledged. He made his way quickly back to the 'abandoned' wing, passing no one in his journey. His presence was no longer a necessary secret, he thought, his hands clenching at his sides. He wasn't even sure why he was so angry; just Kaiba and Mokuba and the stress of knowing that tomorrow would be the beginning of – well, whether Yuugi would live or die. His fate was no longer in his own hands: whether he would be able to graduate high school, or take over the Game Shop, or even learn the other Yuugi's true name all depended now on Kaiba and the court.

Yuugi kicked open the bedroom door, but since it was already ajar it wasn't one of those action-packed balancing acts of a kick like the door itself hoped for to break the monotony, though the door was pleased by the forceful way Yuugi slammed it shut. Yuugi fumed and brewed and stormed across the room, too long by half, and half, and half. The bed was too large, the room too cold, the air too empty. He hated that he was getting used to this room – it had been a several weeks in all since his departure, and Yuugi missed his family, his bed, the rattle of the closing school gates, the start of morning classes. He missed the way Anzu and Jounouchi and Honda would get into the most ridiculous of arguments during their short breaks. He missed Jounouchi's easy smile and the way he could believe anything, more gullible than Yuugi in a surprising twist considering Jounouchi's violent past.

The bed wasn't squeaky enough either, and Yuugi didn't spring back up nearly as high at home. The blankets were too thick and the ceiling too plain and the other Yuugi's face too blurry. Oh. He was tearing up again, like a pathetic little girl. Yuugi clenched his eyes shut tightly.

"I'm not crying." The other Yuugi said nothing, but merely lay down beside him, letting their opposing hands overlap. "I'm not."

"I know," said the other. "Let's play a game."

"Can't," said Yuugi wearily, "I don't have a table map for Duel Monsters, I gave my last packs of regular cards to the owner of the motel, and I don't even want to look at dice."

The other Yuugi gave a small chuckle, and in one fluid roll stood once more, and he offered a hand to Yuugi. The other Yuugi pulled Yuugi to his feet, a pleasant tingle running through both Yuugi's hands.

"Not that kind of game."

"What kind, then?" Yuugi asked, confused, but the other Yuugi just smiled, his hands catching under Yuugi's elbows and with a thrust tossed Yuugi back upon the mattress, further from the edge than he'd been before.

"Other—" Yuugi sputtered, but when he sat back up the other had climbed onto the bed and was crawling towards Yuugi. Yuugi did not shift backwards, or attempt to move away, but his desire to do so must have shown on his face; the other looked hurt.

"Do you no longer trust me, _aibou?_"

Yuugi could not think of anyone he trusted more! But...

"What kind of game?"

The other Yuugi smiled, and continued his approach. "I could never play a Dark Game with you; there's no darkness in your heart. I would always lose."

Yuugi rolled his eyes, and preferring not to be completely trapped by the other he sat up. The other was poised over Yuugi's legs, still coming closer.

"Everyone has darkness in their heart, other me," Yuugi countered, pushing on the semitransparent shoulders to halt the other's progress, "but it doesn't mean that anyone deserves what the Dark Games do to their minds, to them."

The other Yuugi shook his head, his smile a very shallow curve. His face was very close to Yuugi's, now – Yuugi could see little freckles of darker hue in the other's irises, and he wasn't sure if he himself had such variation. Yuugi wondered what his other self would have looked like as the Pharaoh of legend, that king of immense power and a balanced heart.

"Let's don't talk about the Games of Darkness," said the other Yuugi, his smile still controlled and slight on his face, but Yuugi could hear the other's confident, nearly gleeful grin when he added, "I want to play a game of distraction."

Yuugi was not by nature a suspicious person, but Yuugi knew his other self too well by this point to not raise his guard against such a tone. "How do we play?" Yuugi asked, his shields on as high alert as was possible against someone that lived inside one's head. If the other Yuugi noticed this wariness, he ignored it so completely that Yuugi himself nearly forgot he was feeling suspicion in the first place.

"You're still worried about the game tomorrow," the other Yuugi said, his stare on Yuugi so intense that, even on only half opacity, Yuugi wondered if he was not the only one of them who could see through his opposite's head to the wall beyond. "So if I can distract you from thinking about things that make you anxious, then I win."

"So in order for me to win," Yuugi interjected, "I have to worry?"

The other Yuugi nodded. "If anywhere you can keep that feeling of anxiousness, of worry, then I lose."

Yuugi frowned. "This doesn't sound very fun for me," but the other Yuugi just grinned and climbed closer as Yuugi's hands slipped away from the other's shoulders.

"Game start."

Yuugi gasped as his mind fell into a flood of hypersensitivity overload. Like in the labyrinth of white that was Kaiba's flat at the Tower, the other Yuugi had decided to take Yuugi's mind off his worries with the press of flesh to flesh to flesh to eternity, a feedback loop stemming from their flush pressed foreheads. This was not all. The other Yuugi had also entwined their hands together, linking their fingers through one another like the teeth of a zipper, creating two separate loops of infinite feeling.

But it was not enough. After even what few occasions they had succumbed to this anomaly of feeling, Yuugi's mind had begun to adapt, and now Yuugi was still perfectly able to engage in coherent thought, and he used this process to decide that he was glad that hugging his best friend no longer held the threat of instant insanity. He also was saddened that he could only ever have one best friend at a time (though he was sure holding a still-living Jounouchi like this would have been much more awkward).

The hands holding Yuugi's squeezed tighter around his own, and tentatively Yuugi tried to reach through their feedback connection, through their shared heart, to understand why the other Yuugi was trying to break his hands like this.

The other Yuugi had apparently felt Yuugi's sadness, and had discovered his surefire trick had somehow been broken while he was locked away. He could no longer protect his rescuer from anything, and had realized he was so utterly useless and worthless and all he ever did was _frighten_ and _worry_ his _aibou_, and he hated the way his eyes would expand in fear and contract in suspicion and water with sorrow or burn with uncommon rage, and he just wanted to see him happy and feel as good and as happy and wonderful as he felt when he was with _aibou_, and _dammit_ he couldn't do anything right! He thinks it would have been better for _aibou_ if he hadn't rescued the other Yuugi in either occasion.

Yuugi pulled away from the other's thoughts, but did not physically withdraw. Unlike the other Yuugi, and unlike his cursed grandfather years before under the influence of the Puzzle, Yuugi knew that sometimes, winning was the worst outcome to a game. Had he been able to see Hikari's madness, he would have tricked her into winning that game so many nights ago. If, instead of the legendary Pharaoh of Balance, it had been Yuugi and his other self playing games with the Egyptian Gods of old, it would be Yuugi and not this broken Pharaoh's ghost that would have 'won' the Millennium Items.

So really, to lose this game was hardly a sacrifice.

The other Yuugi tried to pull away in forfeit, but Yuugi's hands tightened right back on the other's, and Yuugi pressed his forehead forward when the other tried to retreat. Yuugi hesitated. Though it was not something that he had never done before, and even though it was something he wanted to do, it was something he had not imagined would ever happen again for someone as – as _Yuugi_ as he was. But now it was _here_ in a way Yuugi could have never foreseen and it could very well drive the other away, but _god_ even though the feeling wasn't as insane as before, they could hold it for longer and now everything was warm and so good.

"_Pharaoh,_" Yuugi whispered, using this title for the first time, his hands squeezing the other's in his nervousness, and apprehension and mild terror were coiled all through him like a corkscrew that had pierced but had not yet removed the stopper to reaction. "I don't want to be scared anymore."

"_Ai—_"

Their noses collided at first, but on the second attempt Yuugi's lips covered the other's, and though it was tingly and warm and pleasant, it was also pretty awkward what with neither of them moving.

"_Aibou_?" The lips trembled against Yuugi's, warm and brilliant, and the movement seemed to pull at the cork within Yuugi's torso.

"Please," Yuugi's lips trembled in reply, still lightly pressed against the other's, "Pharaoh, _aibou_, other me, _please_..." Yuugi's thumbs massaged small circles on the other's hands, but Yuugi kept his eyes closed and their lips pressed together, "it's your game... play with me."

Yuugi's hands slipped from the slack hold, rising up and caressing the other Yuugi's neck and jaw and combing gently into his hairline.

"My game?" There was something different about the way he said it, echoing in Yuugi's ears and faintly in his mind, but then there was a shift as the other's leg slid up and against Yuugi's for balance, and Yuugi tried to say the words but no air came out, so it was merely his lips moving while _your game_ managed to echo between them.

It was then that the other Yuugi started kissing back, though it was awkward to start of course. They neither one had much experience in kissing, and any advice was forgotten (except breathing through the nose, that one was easy enough), but eventually their barely open kisses mellowed into something warm and soft.

The other Yuugi did not taste of chocolate – he did not taste of anything except for skin, to be honest – but to Yuugi, kissing him like this was like sipping warm cocoa after weeks of endless cold. Yuugi was not one to sip; he was one to drink things down, to savor with the heat filling him, and Yuugi slid his tongue against the now-wet crease of the other's lips. The body above him pressed in closer, the hands that now held onto Yuugi's shoulder and his hip tightened, but the mouth retreated and Yuugi did _not_ whimper, but someone did so it probably had to be Yuugi, and his eyes opened.

The other Yuugi's skin, though semitransparent, was flushed with heat in his cheeks, and his eyes didn't seem to want to open completely either, and they were so filled with _want_ that Yuugi's corkscrew finally did its job and all that clogging of anxiety was ripped away and all that was left was bubbling warmth within him.

"My game," said the other, moving forward to kiss and straddle and _holy fuck_ even through layers of clothing, having weight and warmth _there_ was _amazing_ and Yuugi agreed, "Your game, yours," and they weren't really saying 'game' anymore, were they? Yuugi hadn't noticed because the other never called him 'Yuugi,' did he? He was more possessive than Yuugi first supposed.

"New rule," said the other, and Yuugi hoped it had nothing to do with point tallies because he wasn't sure if he could even manage simple addition right now (other than _more_ would be good). There was a magical hand-shaped press of heat on Yuugi's back, under his shirt and leather (and _when did he do that?_) and Yuugi let the hand press him closer to the other, whose mouth was at Yuugi's ear (and _when did that happen?_) and the new rule was designating the type of game.

"Solitaire?"

And then there were TEETH on his EAR and it hurt but then it didn't and Yuugi was agreeing full-heartedly because that had been painful but good and— oh.

"Sorry," he murmured while the other was apologizing in a much more tender way to the poor lobe, "it was the only way to get him to agree! And—"

"Would you rather be with your precious Seto? Or perhaps Anzu-chan would be more to your liking?"

Yuugi was very glad he didn't have to lie. "I've only felt like this with you," he said, kissing up the other's jaw line, "and I wouldn't trade you for _anyone_. Besides, they're both too tall, I'd need a stepladder—"

Kissing was much more fun than talking, so they didn't bother too much with the latter besides the occasional gasp and moan and every few minutes a pet name or two. By the time they noticed that their eyes were closed more from fatigue than arousal and decided that sleep would be fantastic, if they had remembered they were playing a game to begin with, the other Yuugi would have been deemed the winner by incredibly ridiculous margins. Yuugi wouldn't have felt too bad about losing, either, as the consolation prize was most excellent.


	15. in which there is an opponent

**Sight the King**  
15/21  
"in which there is an opponent"

* * *

**_The king's head is on his torso._**

* * *

Domino City Courthouse is many things: it is large, it is dignified, and in the central lobby, it is _loud. _Yuugi had been here twice before as a child, with his father and his grandfather, years apart. The first of these had occurred when mother and father had both been out of town for a wedding Yuugi was too young to properly 'enjoy,' and he'd been left to his grandfather's care. It was before Yuugi and his mother had moved into the shop, and he hadn't known his grandfather too well before the incident – a robbery at the Turtle Game Shop. After grandfather had identified the thief at the detention center, he had for some reason thought that Yuugi would appreciate knowing how the judicial system functioned.

Yuugi was six. It was a disaster.

After that incident, grandfather had refused to take Yuugi anywhere without at least one of his parents along for the ride, until Yuugi was eleven.

The courthouse was much louder now – and they were only walking up the staircase, not even having entered the domed building that was architecturally designed to amplify the sound and silence. Yuugi's ears were wincing in preparation for the way all this noise would echo in his mind once they entered those tall, ominous doors, should the reporters ever clear the path and let them through!

It had been a year or so before his father's death that he and Yuugi were brought in to trial on a case of attempted kidnapping – Yuugi's. It had been summer, and the courthouse had been dark and cool despite the heat. Yuugi had been so nervous on the witness stand that he'd first accused the defense attorney of being the criminal. It wasn't Yuugi's fault – they were both Adults in Suits, and Yuugi's assailant had been masked. The real problem of the case had been whether Yuugi's father disabling the attacker by way of throwing knives fell within the realm of reasonable retaliation. As it turned out, the counterattack only barely counted as reasonable because the blade of the knife was less than seven inches, and Yuugi was an only son. That was one of the few occasions Yuugi thought his life _wouldn't_ have been easier as a girl.

This time, though, there were no paternal figures trying to comfort Yuugi when he'd done something wrong, and the government workers certainly weren't looking at him with sympathy. There certainly hadn't been even a full percentage of this many reporters at the other two occasions combined, or such a variety of gawking civilians.

Yuugi was trailing slightly behind his defense attorney, some hotshot Yuugi had obviously never heard of named Hoshikage Shin. Kaiba would not personally accompany Yuugi at this 'trial of the century,' no matter how much assurance they had of victory – directly tying the image of KaibaCorp to Yuugi, Kaiba had explained, would make Yuugi appear _less_ credible because, of course, Kaiba could buy the entire Domino Justice Department if he wanted. Yuugi did not doubt that Kaiba _would_, should he or even Mokuba get in legal trouble.

Yuugi was glad that Kaiba had thought to send along some bodyguards for Yuugi, as the reporters kept trying to mob Yuugi and extract from him a pre-trial confession, and there were a great deal more teenage girls in the crowd than should be acceptable for a weekday morning. The girls had taken to throwing ballerina slippers at Yuugi, the unusual accessory Hikari had apparently donned before shooting everyone dead (not, of course, that _they_ knew that last part).

The other Yuugi remained within the Puzzle, though Yuugi could almost feel the vigilance the other focused on their surroundings, almost able to hear more clearly through Yuugi's ears than even Yuugi could. Yuugi was sure his tormentors were frustrated that he'd been able to dodge what few slippers that made it past the guard surrounding him. The other Yuugi could not, however, prevent the acidic words that were shouted and that echoed all around him – cries of "murderer!" and "die, you fucker!" and other such things.

They had made it through the main foyer unscathed save for minor hearing loss, and finally security started turning away their swarm of hecklers, reporters, and paparazzi. For a trial with this much public scrutiny, Mokuba had mentioned in the ride over, the police had actually signed a distribution deal with one of the big television stations. Channel D'Rage had exclusive broadcasting rights; other news outlets couldn't get anywhere _near_ the courtroom in which the trial would be held, but staking out the courthouse itself wasn't prohibited.

"I know you're nervous," said Hoshikage as they passed into the lobby outside courtroom seven; the area was still more crowded than it should be for even a normal murder trial, but it was significantly smaller than the mob they'd had to fight through to get there, and the figures here were much more intimidating to Yuugi's situation. "Just remember – you're innocent, and as long as you believe we can prove it, we can."

When Kaiba had promised Yuugi the best defense possible, Hoshikage was not exactly the sort of character Yuugi would ever have expected. Oh, he was professional, diligent, and most definitely qualified, but Yuugi would not have imagined being defended by someone so... well, someone who looked so _awkward_. Hoshikage Shin was a ridiculously tall man even for a Westerner (not that he was one), and he was scrawny, bearing all the muscle mass of a flagpole. He couldn't be any older than thirty, probably not even twenty-seven, and his entire appearance seemed to scream "giraffe" to Yuugi – his limbs were too long and too thin, his facial features too narrow, and when his elbows or knees pressed into the fabric of his not _too_ exceedingly well-crafted suit, the joints looked so obscenely large that it appeared as though the man were smuggling a collection of doorknobs into the courtroom.

Hell, Hoshikage even _sounded_ like the voice actor for _Kin Kirin_, the alchemist giraffe from Yuugi's favorite television show as a child, "Magical Fondue Coaster Mansion": mildly pitched and highly comforting. Yuugi hoped that there were no _other_ similarities between his attorney and the puppet scientist: _Kin Kirin_ had been using his skills in alchemy in an attempt to kill the other characters on the show since none of them believed in science, though he was always thwarted. (Thus the title, "_Magical_ Fondue Coaster Mansion.")

When Hoshikage promised Yuugi that they would win the case, Yuugi couldn't find the ability to doubt, but he did worry about _how_ they would do it. Yuugi was afraid that Kaiba might have falsified the evidence, which would defeat the whole purpose of subjecting himself to the court of law in the first place! Hoshikage was probably expecting a response, so Yuugi forced a smile and nodded, craning his neck to meet his lawyer's gaze.

"Yeah, I know, it's just..." he said slowly, "I don't even know what's going to happen in there! I mean—" Yuugi's brief glance around the room had picked up no familiar faces – but who was that in the cosplay wig? It looked expensive – and such isolation was still daunting to him. "—I don't know what you could have found that would prove that she killed herself. Is it even possible to _tell_ with the way she—"

_Aibou, you're rambling, _the other Yuugi murmured in their heart, and Yuugi could feel him press against the cataract barrier between their minds, faintly physical. Yuugi pressed back gently, allowing that presence and gesture to comfort him and sooth his nerves.

"—Sorry," he said, looking up at his attorney; Hoshikage, however, didn't seem to have heard Yuugi, for his gaze was fixed steadily at a point across the room. Yuugi did not have time to ask what was so fascinating, for Kaiba Mokuba was approaching from a different direction with an all too common look on his face: tightened cheeks and a slightly downcast turn of the gaze.

"Mokuba-kun, what's going on?" Yuugi asked, letting his worry color his voice. Mokuba shook his head, still glowering as he came to their very small clustering by some unnoticed wrought-iron chairs that had been bolted to the floor.

"I just saw the prosecution's witness list. It's not good."

"What do they have," asked Hoshikage, turning his attention to Mokuba swiftly, "quack doctors with falsified autopsies?"

"Probably, I didn't check that," said Mokuba, his attention barely diverted by the question; "they've got a name on there that shouldn't be there. It's bad. It's really bad. It's leagues beyond bad."

Yuugi, understandably, was more than a touch confused at Mokuba's rising panic. "What's wrong? Who is it?"

"Remember big brother's file?"

The fear was instant, and Yuugi's body was filled with ice and terror. _Fuck! _

"But... but I thought Kaiba-kun—"

"He _did! _" hissed Mokuba, defensive as if it was he himself taking the insult, "but we weren't expecting anyone to _recover!_ And certainly not _testify!_"

_Impossible! Nothing can break a Penalty Game—_

_Unless they actually learned from the penalty, right? Isn't that what you told me? _

_Well, yes, but no one ever has before! _

_... what about Kaiba? _

_... it's exceedingly rare. Not many have the strength of heart to overcome such trials. _

"Who?" Yuugi asked, pulling out of their thoughts and not at all liking where this was going, or the sudden hand holding his shoulder. Hoshikage, Yuugi was sure, had not been told about Kaiba's 'list.'

"Souzouji Minoru—"

"But Kaiba-kun said—"

"I know what big brother _said_," Mokuba spat out tersely, his body wrought with tension and anger, "and that name's on the list of witnesses. Be glad that I _told_ you before you freak out when he takes the stand!" Yuugi did not flinch under Mokuba's harsh tone, but he felt angry with himself regardless of the fact that he was being reprimanded by a ten-year-old brat. Yuugi was glad that Souzouji had gotten better, but... he was sure that as soon as it came out the he'd driven the other boy crazy, then everything else could possibly come out, including _exploding_ a guy with dynamite over carnival games. Yuugi was sure that after finding out about _that_, no court would have difficulty finding that _of course_ he had motive to kill two pop stars – he was a psychopath! That's what psychopaths do! The case would close with Yuugi in the electric chair, or the hangman's noose, or whatever it was that they used to kill people these days. Yuugi clenched his hands into weak fists to stop them from shaking.

_His was a weak penalty, _the other Yuugi added, quietly, _but still, I did not expect... aibou, for all this... I'm sorry. _

"I'm sorry, Mokuba-kun," Yuugi said quietly, "I didn't mean to snap at you..."

Mokuba just waved him off, shaking his head. "Hoshikage-san, I need to fill you in—"

"No," Yuugi cut in, his voice shaking, "I will, I'll—"

But Yuugi could not explain the Dark Games, or how utterly terrible it was for there to be _that_ classmate as a witness: one of the bailiffs had intruded upon their small triangle, a burly, walrus-like man with only a half-circle of white hair encompassing his skull like a laurel woven from silk. The bailiff led them into the courtroom proper, directing them to their table beneath the towering presence that was the bench and podium of the Judge. Yuugi numbly drifted to his seat, Hoshikage Shin following next to Yuugi with a reassuring smile that faltered as he lowered into his seat until it was painful to even ignore, and Mokuba moved into the 'public' pews.

The prosecuting attorney entered, a man so trim and straight that Yuugi instantly thought of rockets, and bullets, and Yuugi's hand shook and nearly jerked to cover the round scar on his shoulder that lay hidden beneath his borrowed suit. The man that took his seat next to the attorney was a foreigner, a man well into his fifties, but well cared for and strong; everything about the man's appearance shouted to Yuugi of both money and vanity. The man's hair, bleached into a variety of shades of blond, was cut in a slightly messy bowl, the hair coming to just shy of the top of his smooth jaw. His suit looked as though he had worn it off the set of a stage production of some Victorian comedy, the reds of it dark and some crushed material that, even at a distance, looked slightly fuzzed; velvet? Yuugi couldn't be sure, having never taken a particular interest in fabrics. The man's face, too, showed a complexion that was too even to be natural, and touches of it wore subdued color to make him look younger.

Yuugi had seen the man several times before, but now he could only remember him from a single picture, in which all the people captured looked too ridiculously made-up and overdone for it to simply be a normal family's portrait; Sasori Tadashi glared at Yuugi with fire and hatred and a sick sort of glee that Yuugi couldn't identify but made him shiver internally all the same.

The courtroom filled with dull noise as bailiffs and security and stenographers and cameramen finished setting up their stations and equipment, and as family and reporters and politicians began filling the pews. Yuugi did not turn to seek out his mother's rigidly calm face, or his grandfather's appraising gaze to determine how much Yuugi had changed in the past weeks, or find Grandmother Kameyo hidden in plain sight. He did not see Anzu and Honda, sitting side-by-side, watching Yuugi with a conflicting mixture of hope and despair.

He would not have recognized them based on prior meetings, but had Yuugi looked around the room, his gaze would have rested on a family of three sitting near Mokuba; the adults of the family were glaring at Yuugi, the woman very calm while her husband was shaking with some repressed emotion. It was not these two, though, that would have captured Yuugi's attention: it would have been the girl sitting between them. She would have looked familiar to Yuugi, had he looked, but he would know he'd never be able to tell where he had seen her before for the bandages around the entire top half of her face – was she blind, or merely injured?

As it was, Yuugi did not see any of these people, could not feel their hatred or sense of relief or betrayal or belief in him, could not see them at all, for his gaze was turned downward to where the other Yuugi had materialized, kneeled by Yuugi's side, the other's hands and Yuugi's folded together on his upper thigh.

_I'm so sorry, _the other Yuugi murmured, and Yuugi could feel the other's worry and fear seeping into his own marrow, _it's all because of me, for everything, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—_

"Other me, I forgive you, it's okay," Yuugi whispered, his lips barely moving and the words almost inaudible and necessarily so. Yuugi turned his gaze up momentarily before focusing on his lap and their entwined hands, his gaze occasionally darting to the other Yuugi; he dared not stare into the otherwise empty space his other self inhabited, for worry of notice by the hundred plus people around him. "We'll pull through this. We have to believe we'll get through this. It's a game, too, remember?"

After a moment of silence the other Yuugi seemed to calm, and his apologies ceased. At the following summons, Yuugi too rose to his feet when the walrus of a bailiff called, his attention landing on the entering robed man. He was a small and seemingly frail elderly fellow, whose bones pressed so sharply against the skin of his face that Yuugi wondered if his skeleton was so anxious for death that it would leap out of its cage of muscle and skin should someone merely cough in the Judge's vicinity. The cameras were already rolling, and so began the trial of Mutou Yuugi.

* * *

--

* * *

"Court is now in session in the case of the City of Domino versus Mutou Yuugi on the charge of unpremeditated triple homicide. How does the defense plead?" The voice of the Judge was a deep, commanding bass, and it shattered Yuugi's initial perception of a man staring death in the face. Well, that wasn't exactly true: the man stared at death without fear, but not submissively; it was the voice of someone who would not hesitate to get into a knife fight with God if the latter stepped out of line. Yuugi probably would stutter out his 'not guilty,' had his attorney not done so for him without the slightest hesitation or weakness in voice.

"The defense pleads 'not guilty' of all charges, Your Honor." The Judge had to slam down his gavel repeatedly at the sudden collective cry of outrage and disbelief from the courtroom at large.

"Order!" he called out, pulling out the proverbial knife against his opponent. "The court recognizes the defense's plea. Will the prosecution now start so that this mockery of justice can be done with as quickly as possible?"

"He's always like that," Hoshikage whispered to Yuugi quietly while the prosecutor began detailing how the police had found and seen the crime scene, with Yuugi the only survivor. "He's probably the best Judge the city has, but likes claiming that any justice department that has _him_ as the top judge must have something wrong with it."

Yuugi wasn't sure how to react to the light-hearted distraction, and instead refocused on the prosecutor's monologue.

"—cers Sasaki and Satou arrived at the apartment of Sasori Hikari and Hebi, two school girls famous for their roles in such blockbuster classics as 'The Girl Who Could Do Anything Except Reunite Her Estranged Parents,' and 'If You Only Live Once, Wear Only Beautiful Shoes.' When police arrived at the scene, they found four high school students, only one of which was still alive.

"Those teenagers were: Jounouchi Katsuya, age fifteen, had a record of gang-related criminal history but has since become a hard-working student. Autopsy reports indicate that after suffering a severe wound to the gut, the boy bled to death. Sasori Hebi, fourteen years old, honor student and pop idol, was shot once in the temple at point-blank range and died instantly. Sasori Hikari, also fourteen, was assaulted with a knife and died from blood loss resulting from a slit jugular. The fourth and only other person in the apartment was none other than Mutou Yuugi, age sixteen, who suffered only from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to his left shoulder—"

"Objection, Your Honor!" Hoshikage called, glaring at the prosecutor. "There's no indication in the medical records that the wound Mutou-san suffered was self-inflicted."

"Objection sustained. Please strike 'self-inflicted' from the record."

"... As I was saying," the prosecutor cut in snidely, "Mutou suffered only from a _likely_ self-inflicted gunshot wound to his left shoulder. Both murder weapons – the knife and gun – were found on the scene, and there were no signs of forced entry or escape. It is not difficult to imagine what happened – and not difficult to see Mutou-san's guilt in this matter." The prosecutor looked like a fox, sleek and cunning; Yuugi was not comforted by this realization.

Hoshikage stood next, to give his opening statement, but Yuugi couldn't focus on the words – Sasori Tadashi and Prosecutor-the-Fox whose name Yuugi had not caught earlier were going over some official-looking documents with a sort of thoroughness that begot a sort of joy in their closed-off faces.

_If you want, _said the other Yuugi, rising on his knees and following Yuugi's gaze, _I could go look. _

"We have to trust our allies," Yuugi whispered with barely moving lips, his gaze going back up to Hoshikage, who was going on about Yuugi's passive nature, lack of motive, and the lack of physical evidence that he committed the crimes. Yuugi turned his attention back to his lap. "We have to trust that Hoshikage-san will win, that Kaiba-kun's team's evidence is enough. I'd rather we lose than cheat justice."

The other Yuugi said nothing to this as the first witness was called to the stand. Instead, he dissolved back into shadow and retreated to Yuugi, and Yuugi welcomed the presence within himself once more. Officer Satou – the limping cop that had arrested Yuugi – sounded much more steady on the witness stand than he had in the interrogation room during Yuugi's questioning.

"It was around half past three in the morning when we got the call – graveyard shift. The woman says she's hearing some gunshots from the floor below. My partner and I, we head out to the crime scene – it's a rougher neighborhood than most, there'd been a bunch of dead hobos turning up around there, so Sasaki and I were hoping we'd gotten a lead on that case. Took a bit under half an hour to get there, arrived around four, and when we got there, we knew it was something else entirely."

Even though Yuugi had been in the back of their mind then, he clearly remembered Satou and Sasaki break down the door in their haste to get to the scene. It had seemed a bit of an overreaction, now that Yuugi thought about it, considering they hadn't once shouted a warning that they were coming in.

"We get into the flat, and the first thing I see is Sasori Hebi, dead on the couch, everything soaked in blood. There were two bodies on the floor – Sasori Hikari, the other star, was on the ground closer to the door, and the third we didn't see until we actually went into the room, because Jounouchi-san was behind the couch. When we went in, we'd no idea who the girls were. Anyway, the two people on the floor were dead, the girl on the couch was dead, and there was a kid standing behind the couch covered in blood. The kid was watching us – we'd broken down the door, and he looked startled – and he said 'good morning.' Good morning? What sane person says 'good morning' when surrounded by dead people? Oh, and the kid was bleeding heavily from a shoulder wound."

"And this 'kid' you saw," prodded the prosecutor, "was the accused?"

Satou nodded instantly. "Yeah, he's got a pretty distinctive hairstyle, and I had plenty of time to memorize his face when we had him in custody."

_I realize that this is meant to determine whether I live or die, _Yuugi murmured to his other self within the confines of their shared heart, _but I am bored out of my mind. _Yuugi felt the other give something like a derisive laugh, though it seemed forced.

_You appear to still be here, _replied the other Yuugi, his 'voice' still colored with worry even as he tried making a joke. Yuugi had to suppress the smile at the effort. _If you would rather be elsewhere, you could project outwards and move, as I do._

_And leave you in charge? No way! You'd probably start sorting through Grandpa's deck right at the table where everyone could see you!_

_At least I wouldn't be 'bored out of my mind,' aibou._

"Do you find it at all odd," Yuugi heard from Hoshikage's questions, barely paying attention, "that everyone excepting Hikari-san was shot, including my client? The gun still had bullets in it, after all, and—"

_... it's a pity we don't have the Millennium Scales you mentioned before, _added the other Yuugi after a long moment of cross-examination, _for then we could just weigh your heart._

_Or the Eye, _added Yuugi, _because then the Judge could talk to Jounouchi-kun and sort this whole mess out. ... I really miss him._

_I never... spoke with him, myself, but he was a just and loyal friend to you._

_I just have to remember we're doing this for him – so that no one will see his face and remember her deeds. _

There were two short-lived witnesses after that – another person from the Justice Department that stated that although the gun was registered to Hikari, there were no fingerprints on the gun, and only Hikari's were found on the knife, and how easy was it to kill someone, wipe the prints, and then wrap a dead girl's hand around the handle? Very easy, argued the prosecutor. The other was the upstairs neighbor who'd made the call, and who had been coincidentally recording a video letter to her uncle in the military and had accidentally caught the sound of each of the gunshots in the background: bang, six seconds, bang, bang. She'd apparently been recording it at such a ridiculous hour solely _because_ she knew there'd be no sound interference. The prosecutor argued that Yuugi first slit Hikari's throat in order to get the gun, stole that weapon, shot the sister, hesitated, then shot his friend before turning the gun on himself.

Yuugi was forcibly _not_ paying attention to the prosecutor's arguments, or to his attorney's counter-attacks – if he followed every word and gesture of what was going on, he knew he would call out inappropriately against all the lies and half-truths being thrown around. Unless he was called to the witness stand, there was nothing he could do but trust in his attorney, and in the evidence, and hope for the best.

It was for this reason that Yuugi, instead, attempted solving a Rubik's cube within his imagination, and only at Hoshikage's prodding did he realize that the Judge had called for a short recess.

* * *

--

* * *

The courtroom lobby was much louder now, what with almost everyone from the courtroom having bypassed traditional decorum to congregate in the defendant's area, as opposed to the courthouse proper, or the prosecution's end. Yuugi was very glad that the bodyguards Kaiba had assigned had not deserted Yuugi as quickly as had the state-appointed security. The ring of suits kept away most of the reporters and the Sasori fangirls, so Hoshikage was able to talk strategy almost in peace.

"Don't worry too much, Mutou-san," said Hoshikage, misinterpreting Yuugi's silence, "it always looks bad at first, but the truth will come out."

That was what Yuugi was afraid of – the whole insanity plea inducing truth. Yuugi was getting sick of worrying. Hoshikage had assured him that there were laws against giving the death penalty to minors, so the worst case would _only_ be life in prison. The assurance was not helping.

"Yuugi!" an ever-familiar masculine voice called, and Yuugi's entire body clenched, "Tell your goons to unhand me!"

"Grandpa!"

Mutou Sugoroku, looking sorely out-of-place in his formal suit, had attempted to breach the ring of Kaiba's security without success; both of his arms had been snatched and trapped by men who seemed to be designed solely for the purpose of being strong, silent, and who wore their suits like armor they'd trained for their whole lives to wear properly.

"Hey, he's okay, let him go! That's my Grandpa!" Yuugi exclaimed to the guards, rushing towards them and breaking away from Hoshikage's one-sided attempt at conversation. Grandfather barely had time to get his arms back before they were almost pinned again by Yuugi's painfully tight and emotionally wrought hug.

Yuugi could have asked him about all the terrible things he'd heard from Grandmother Kameyo – about how the Puzzle had cursed him, or why he lied so much about his past – and he would, just as soon as he was finished thanking every deity he could name, and many that he couldn't, for proving his fears that he would never see his grandfather again to be just fears.

"Ah, Yuugi," he said kindly, returning the embrace easily and with equal fervor, "we've all missed you—"

"You're just mad that you had to stock the inventory yourself," Yuugi cut in, smiling and pushing the sadness away. Grandfather laughed.

"You underestimate me! We were perfectly able to manage the shop without you."

"We? Never in a hundred years would Mama—"

"Oh, no," his grandfather interrupted easily, "I hired that friend of yours, Anzu-chan." There was a sly grin forming on the old man's face, and Yuugi's surprise was fading when he realized—

"...You only make her stock the top shelves, you pervert!" Yuugi accused, and Grandfather laughed and laughed, but Yuugi could tell it was because he was right.

Grandfather released him from the embrace, going in to mess up his hair. Yuugi tried dodging the cranial assault to no avail. "Impertinent brat, disrespecting your elders—"

"I love you too, you crotchety old man."

He laughed, and pulled Yuugi into another hug, but after a moment Yuugi pulled away.

"So where is she? She... she did come, right?"

He hesitated. "Ah, she's... having words with Kawai-san; Jounouchi-kun's mother."

Yuugi knew what 'having words' meant when his mother was involved – he was surprised he hadn't heard her high alto ricocheting off of the lobby walls, in this case. She wasn't a violent woman by nature, but Yuugi had seen policemen _cry_ when she turned her anger upon them. Jounouchi's mother probably didn't deserve it, either – to be verbally torn down by the mother of the kid who she likely believed killed her own son? This was probably a bad thing. Yuugi sighed. He didn't know where they were, and to venture out now through all these people to find them would be suicide; when all this was over, he would seek their forgiveness – especially from Jounouchi's sister.

After that whole episode with the Rintama High gang, Jounouchi had told Yuugi all about his family: his father's tendency towards drink when work was especially grueling and as a method to dealing with his depression over his divorce from Jounouchi's mother, how Jounouchi almost wished custody laws would have let him move with his mother, how close he and his sister Shizuka had been growing up and how they kept in touch even following the divorce. After only about a month of grieving, Yuugi was sure she was still devastated by his death; but these thoughts were for another time.

"Thank you for letting me borrow your deck, Grandpa," Yuugi said after a moment, smiling.

"Oh? Did you have to duel while you were gone?" The walrus bailiff had returned, Yuugi could see; the trial would probably be resuming soon.

"No," he said after a moment, shaking his head. "It helped me... it helped me find what was most important to me... and you, too."

Grandfather's face clouded, his perplexed thoughts showing in the deep trenches of age on his brow. "To me?" he asked, and Yuugi nodded with a smile. Now, grandfather would be so distracted by this mystery, he would hopefully not worry overly much about what went on during the trial. Yuugi's grandfather wasn't a weak man, but so much stress, Yuugi knew, would take its toll on Grandfather, and his old age certainly wouldn't help matters.

"Mmhmm!" Yuugi agreed, "I'll show you later, too, if—"

"Ah, I'm sorry to interrupt, Mutou-san, but—"

Yuugi gave another too-bright smile. "That's all right, Hoshikage-san, I'm ready. Wish me luck, Grandpa!"

Grandfather just smiled, and gave Yuugi an ostentatious wink, his gaze sliding down momentarily.

"Yuugi, Yuugi," he almost chastised, "who needs luck?"


	16. in which there are many familiar faces

**Sight the King**  
16/21  
"in which there are many familiar faces"

* * *

**_He lives on the stuff of the gods,_**

* * *

The court was going through witnesses faster than Yuugi went through pen-and-paper mazes, so when the dreaded name was called on still only the first day of trial, Yuugi was moderately panicked.

Souzouji Minoru was an upperclassman at Domino High that Yuugi had not seen for months: not since that night, the 'all night karaoke party' with just Yuugi, Hanasaki, Souzouji, and a microphone with fully blasted speakers. Yuugi remembered the painful sound of Souzouji's voice, and remembered him knocking Hanasaki unconscious, but after that... Yuugi had a pretty good idea.

When Souzouji took the stand, Yuugi barely recognized the man; without his obnoxious headphones, or his headband, or his too small school jacket... no, those things were not what looked so different now. Souzouji was looking at Yuugi, and he was smiling. It was the way Jounouchi smiled when he was sharing a secret beside a shielding hand.

Considering the source, that smile struck Yuugi with painful threat, but he glared back with determination. Souzouji would do damage, yes, but Yuugi was not going to allow this one punk the opportunity to destroy Yuugi's chance for freedom.

There was a woman standing next to Souzouji, a cute brunette with hair so curly Yuugi was reminded of thick telephone cords, and momentarily wondered in which of those two she would entangle her fingers while talking on the phone. She spoke in a gentle voice, as though she were accustomed to only speaking to distressed children. "Souzouji-kun has taken a vow of silence, so I am serving as his interpreter."

The prosecutor, stiff and sleek like a new deck of cards, stood at her words, and turned to address the court. "Souzouji Minoru-san was a student at Domino High School not long ago, placed a couple years above the accused, Mutou Yuugi, but was placed in a mental hospital several months ago. Souzouji-san, would you please tell us about your acquaintance with Mutou-san?"

Souzouji nodded, and swiftly his hands came up in a rapid series of gestures – sign language? – that Yuugi couldn't follow. The woman, the interpreter, spoke fluidly after a moment of pause.

"Yuugi-kun was one of those kids that was easy to bully," she said in kind tones, as though she were talking more about children getting into fights over who got to be the leader of the _sentai_ team out on the playground and not about physical assault; "he never fought back, never tried to get help, and he always looked so weak and pathetic, it was like he was asking for it. At least, he was... until that day."

Souzouji's hands paused; Yuugi did not like where this was going. After all, if Souzouji had been in a mental hospital, how could he _possibly_ be a witness to this case? It didn't make any sense. The only thing Souzouji could be describing was _that _day, when Yuugi's other self did whatever it was that sent Souzouji to the mental institution in the first place. Then again, Yuugi couldn't really say anything – after all, how could he know that Souzouji wasn't meant to recover? How could he know that Souzouji hadn't _happened_ to been near the scene of the crime? Surely proclaiming certain knowledge of that would cast an even more terrible light on his already badly viewed image.

But still, that smile...

"What happened that day?" asked the prosecutor, his voice a confident purr of a predator approaching injured prey.

"Your Honor, I object to this witness!" Hoshikage proclaimed loudly, glaring at both the prosecutor and the judge in turn; Yuugi could have sagged in relief at his attorney's intervention. "I see no reason why this witness is on the stand. He had not stepped foot outside of the Domino City Institute For The Improvement And Possible Restoration Of Mental Health for Those Who Can Afford It until several weeks _after_ the event in question took place, and had been there for many weeks more than that _before_ the crime; how then, Your Honor, can he constitute a viable witness? Especially considering his mental stability is _obviously_ questionable, considering his permanent residence at said institute?"

"Your Honor," the prosecutor interjected smoothly, "the defense is arguing that Mutou-san has no criminal history, no history of violence, and no motive for killing anyone, let alone two beloved celebrities and his own proclaimed best friend. If my witness can shine light on Mutou-san's inherent character as someone who is, in fact, capable of such maliciousness, then such a testimony is crucial to this case."

"Your Honor—"

"I'll allow it," cut in the judge, sharply, to Hoshikage, "for now. Mikami-san, if this witness is a waste of the court's time, I will hold you in contempt. Is this clear?"

"Perfectly," responded prosecutor Mikami, bowing respectfully to the judge. "You will find this testimony most enlightening."

"Please continue, Souzouji-san," the judge added kindly; Souzouji nodded politely (a sight Yuugi had never thought he would see in a hundred years), and began gesturing once more. After a moment, his interpreter resumed her translation.

"So, I used to love karaoke singing, and I know this seems off-topic, but please have faith in me. I was terrible at it, but in those days I didn't care. I'd drag some underclassman to a karaoke club and blast out for hours. I was so bad, a bunch of them had to go to the doctor for ruptured eardrums and tin..."

The interpreter halted, her gaze confused and her responding gestures rapid. After a moment of silent dialog between the two, the woman shook her head and resumed. "_Tinnitus_. Things like that, but I didn't care. After a while, I realized I could get money out of it, too, so I started making the underclassmen sell tickets, and I'd get all that too. I'd done it to Yuugi-kun a couple times already, so one week I snagged him and some other friendless runt. Yuugi-kun tried helping the kid – he's like that, sticks up for everyone, never fights back though – so I'd dragged them both to the club. After I started wailing on the other kid for backing out, Yuugi..."

The woman trailed off again, for Souzouji's hands had stilled in the air. All the court's attention was fixed on the witness, including Yuugi's, even as he conversed with his other self.

_This does not make sense, _said the other, staring at Souzouji through Yuugi's eyes. _I can still detect the hold of dark magic upon his mind. How can he possibly be able to speak? _

_Well, he isn't really speaking, other me, _Yuugi replied, focusing on the man on the witness stand whose mind _should_ be lost to insanity. Yuugi tried to see what it was about the bully that looked so intrinsically different now as opposed to back at the karaoke club where Yuugi saw him last. There had to be something!

Slowly, Souzouji's hands resumed their signing.

"He... challenged me to a game of silence," said the interpreter, and Yuugi's body tensed as adrenaline rushed through him; no, no, it couldn't go like this, it couldn't end like this, it couldn't! That the other Yuugi was pressing against that cataract boundary, murmuring soft assurances and apologies in his heart did not drown out the rushing of blood in his ears, that rushing that silenced everything except the kind voice of the confused interpreter. "And I lost, and when Yuugi won, he... he showed me everything I'd been doing, all the pain I'd caused. Not that he hurt me or sang or anything, but..."

The hands paused again, so the woman trailed off, her expression both confused and comforting. The prosecutor – Mikami, the judge had called him – looked upset, and surprised, and Yuugi was not sure if this was a bad thing.

"It was overwhelming," said Souzouji, his voice not loud, but audible and level all the same. His interpreter was trying to hide her shock; murmurs had broken out all over the courtroom.

"He can talk?" "What's the deal?" "Does he even know what's going on?" "Execute that bastard too!" "Why was he using sign language?" "What does this have to do with the Sasori twins?" "Who—"

_Slam! Slam! _went the gavel, the judge's cries of "Order!" taking reign over all the noise. Souzouji had his hands clasped over his ears, and he was wincing.

"Would you all just _shut up?! _" he shouted, pained, tears in his eyes.

_His eyes! Other me, do you see that? _

At that, the other Yuugi pulled away from Yuugi's body and, knowing he could not be seen in this manifestation, crossed through the desk and across the courtroom, intent upon the witness stand. The court had quieted down, so when the other Yuugi spoke quietly with his inaudible voice, Yuugi heard him perfectly.

"His eyes are empty."

"Order in the court! Souzouji-san, what is the meaning of this?"

Souzouji smiled again, that secret smile, and he turned his gaze back to the judge. "Sorry. I'm not deaf, or a mute. I just don't like talking anymore."

Mikami looked furious; in turn, Hoshikage looked pleased with this development. While Souzouji spoke, the other Yuugi did not stray from his examination.

"May I continue?" _God, _he didn't even sound like Souzouji! The Souzouji Yuugi had known would _never_ say something as polite as 'may.' The judge only gave him a small wave of his hand as an indication to continue. "Anyway. What Yuugi showed me – what he told me – it opened my eyes."

"He has no pupils," interjected the other Yuugi.

"It was a bit too much for me to comprehend; hell, it gave me a nervous breakdown! I took a vow of silence and everything. I think... if he hadn't left, or if I'd had a gun, I would have killed him for it. Or myself. That's just the way Yuugi is: he's just so honest and open, you can't help but _hate_ that he makes it look so easy. If those Sasoris were anything as bad as the tabloids say, it's no surprise that they'd go crazy after meeting Yuugi. I don't doubt that it was one of them." He smiled, and before the court could fully react to his proclamation he added, "thank you, Yuugi-kun."

Souzouji covered his ears again as the courtroom exploded in noise. Hoshikage literally chuckled as he abdicated his cross-examination of the witness, and when Souzouji and his flustered interpreter walked away from the stand, Yuugi stared at the senior's eyes. The other Yuugi was right: without his pupils, and with his irises so shiny and unending, Souzouji looked empty, hollow – nothing at all like the Souzouji Yuugi always tried to avoid. The other Yuugi re-entwined to Yuugi's heart while the judge chewed out the prosecutor for such a useless witness, proclaiming to uphold his threat of contempt of court.

_His mind is still locked within the Dark Game, _said the other, and if he had a face at this point Yuugi knew it would be distorted with a scowl; Yuugi knew his own face was suffering that expression from confusion.

_So he hasn't recovered, then? He's still insane? _

_Mm. Souzouji was not the one who spoke on the witness stand. There is something more at play here. _

Yuugi only gave a slight nod that people would take as a gesture to Souzouji's departure, and he felt the other Yuugi's internal embrace. They watched Souzouji stride out of the courtroom, his mind and heart still clouded with darkness, even as he walked beneath the brilliant skylights and into the bright afternoon sun.

* * *

--

* * *

The Judge had, after that waste of the court's time, called both Hoshikage and Mikami into his chambers to question them on their pending witnesses. Only after nearly twenty minutes of debate behind closed doors were the two lawyers released, and when Hoshikage told Yuugi that three of the prosecution's witnesses were being forcibly dropped, Yuugi let off a small internal cheer. Souzouji may have been able to claim that his mental instability was nothing more than an adverse reaction to a good deed, but Yuugi doubted that even most of those affected by the Dark Games could be distorted in Yuugi's favor.

Hoshikage continued. "I'd had a couple of your classmates down as character witnesses as well, but those have also been stricken."

This, too, was good news – as much as he loved... well, as much as he liked Anzu and Honda and everyone else in his class he... did not want to hear them try to talk him up. Anzu's comments in the article still gnawed at his thoughts. Had it come up when she was working at the Game Shop? Even if it had, she'd accused him of being untrustworthy, and— he thought she knew him better than that!

"So what happens now?" Yuugi asked, worried; Hoshikage was much too tense for this to be good news. His suspicions were confirmed.

"The prosecution would like to call Mutou Yuugi to the stand."

Hushed murmurs erupted from the audience, and Yuugi blanched. He knew it was unreasonable, and though they had prepared, Yuugi had hoped he would not have been forced to testify at all; to be called on the first day was not something he expected. One false step, and the case would be over with a guilty verdict.

_You can do it, aibou, _whispered the other Yuugi, and at the judge's summons Yuugi stood, crossing to the witness stand.

The prosecutor stood once Yuugi was placed, making his way to the open courtroom floor before he spoke.

"Mutou-san. On the night in question, you were arrested at the scene of the murder. Is this true?"

He nodded, shakily, before remembering the court stenographer. "Ah. Yes. I was."

"You admit to being the only survivor at the crime scene?"

"Everyone was dead when I woke up, if that's what you're asking," he said, seeing where the prosecutor was attempting to lead. The prosecutor looked amused.

"Woke up? Do you mean to tell the court that you were _sleeping_ at the time of the murder?"

Yuugi shook his head, his hands sweating against the wood of the podium, but he felt the comforting pressure of his other self trying to alleviate his nervousness. Yuugi swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, shaking his head.

"N-no. I blacked out after I was shot."

Loud murmurs broke out amongst the audience, and the gavel slammed repeatedly for silence.

"Mutou-san," said the judge, "would you please tell the court everything that happened on the night in question?"

Here it was: the most important part, the only part that Yuugi could control. He nodded.

"Jounouchi-kun was walking me home, since it was after curfew, and we ran into Hikari-san and Hebi-san on the way. I didn't know they were idols, but Jounouchi-kun might have... Well, Hikari-san and Jounouchi-kun seemed really... interested, in one another, so when Hebi-san suggested we all go play _Monsters Kill You Dead, _I was the only one who wasn't thrilled."

"Monsters... kill you dead?" interjected Mikami, and Yuugi nodded.

"Mm. It's a board game. It's not particularly popular, but it has its fans. The game changes every time you play, so it's really fun for parties. Ah, you probably don't want to hear about that, though, right? So, we all went up to their flat, and we started playing the game. I didn't want to be there anyway, so I tried beating the game as fast as I could. I'm really good with games, so usually I can end them really fast, but _Monsters Kill You Dead_ is an unusual game. It was set up so one of the players would be competing against all the others, so by chance it wound up being me against everyone else—"

"And is this why you killed them?" interjected Mikami, smoothly, "because the game portrayed you as the villain?"

"I didn't kill anybody!" Yuugi exclaimed, his attention diverted, but Hoshikage came to his rescue once more.

"Your Honor, the prosecution is attempting the badger the defendant!"

"Objection sustained," replied the judge, pointing his gavel at Mikami. "You're already going into custody at the end of today's session, Mikami-san. Don't force me to bar you from the courtroom itself."

Mikami smiled, and nodded, and Yuugi felt the other Yuugi pull away so as to be able to give him a more physical-feeling assurance. Yuugi bowed his head to hide his smile at the feel of the looping embrace, and his hands relaxed from their clenched fists.

"Near... near the end of the game, Hikari-san had a chance of killing my character, but... luck of the dice, I beat her instead. She was... she was so _angry _about it that she stormed out of the room. We got through a round of turns before she was supposed to go again, and she came back, and that's when... it all happened so fast! I looked up from the board and she was holding a gun and she shot me."

His right hand touched the juncture of his shoulder and torso, where the bullet scar remained, and he felt the phantom hand of the other Yuugi cover his own.

"I went into shock. I was bleeding, I was bleeding a lot, and I heard a couple more gunshots before I blacked out. When I woke up I..." _Only tell them what you saw, _he reminded himself, _not what you actually know. _"I had been moved, I was sitting up, leaning against the couch, and Hikari-san sat across from me, having... having slit her own throat. I didn't know she was dead at first, so I nudged her, to see if she was awake, but she toppled over and there was _so much blood, _and I didn't know where Jounouchi-kun was, so I went to look and he was _dead! _My best friend..." Yuugi took a deep breath, hearing the utter and eerie silence of the courtroom around him, his words overpowering all. When he looked up, everyone was staring at him in open shock, the whirr of the electronics the only noise that filled the air. It was a long silence, and Yuugi saw the expressions of disbelief on familiar faces, and the looks of trust on others; Hoshikage looked triumphant. Then again, so did Mikami.

"Mutou-san, we realize that you are pleading innocence in this case, but you will also go so far as to accuse one of your victims of being the culprit?"

Yuugi's hand fisted in the material of his borrowed suit jacket, still held over the healed wound. "You asked me to tell the truth," he said quietly. "It's not my fault that the truth doesn't comply with your argument, Mikami-san."

The courtroom exploded. Voices were clamoring for a recess – most loudly were the newscasters, wanting to cash in on such a startling statement. The noise was overpowered by the gavel, but it took nearly ten minutes for the din to quiet down regardless.

_Ugh, _commented the other Yuugi, _why must everything be so loud? _

_We should have brought ear plugs, _added Yuugi with half-hearted jest.

"Your Honor!" Hoshikage shouted, "The defense would like to amend its plea!"

"_**WHAT?! **_" The exclamation came from so many directions at once; Yuugi barely heard his own shout in the cacophony.

_How dare—_

_Wait, aibou. Look at his face. It is the expression of victory. _

"The defense will not only prove that Mutou Yuugi is innocent," Hoshikage said with a grin distorting his narrow features, "but that Sasori Hikari had invited both Jounouchi Katsuya and my client to her apartment with the sole intent of killing them."

* * *

--

* * *

Again the gavel came down, each attack so forceful that Yuugi was afraid the judge's podium would split down the middle under the force of it.

"Of course," added Hoshikage, his victorious grin still upon his face, "the prosecution is more than welcome to keep trying to pin these murders on an innocent young man, but he should know he will fail."

"Order, order! The court hereby recognizes the defense's amendment, and—"

"I object!" proclaimed Mikami, glaring venomously at Hoshikage before turning his attention to the judge. "Your Honor, the prosecution has not seen any of the evidence the defense wishes to submit regarding this change of plea, can not report the validity of such, and the prosecution will not stand for this verdict being determined by unexamined parlor tricks!"

"Your Honor, I object to this slander the prosecution is slinging—"

"The prosecution would like to present a dictionary to the defense, so that he may be made aware that a statement of fact does not fall under the definition of slander—"

"Enough!" the judge roared, nearly flinging the gavel at the stenographer in his haste. "I am now holding _both_ of you in contempt of court. Today's trial has been running far too long as it is, so I hereby adjourn today's session. We will reconvene tomorrow morning at nine a.m. to recommence with the cross-examination of Mutou Yuugi, should it be necessary. Court is dismissed, so everybody get the hell out!"

The gavel came down loudly one final time, and several bailiffs were already taking the two lawyers into custody.

"You may step down, Mutou-san," the judge added, nodding to Yuugi. He bowed his head in return, forcing himself to relax, feeling the other Yuugi take his newly free hand.

"You did it, _aibou_," said the other Yuugi, grinning. "Enough doubt of your guilt is cast among their hearts, they surely will be willing to learn the truth."

_But will it be enough? _He thought, not daring to speak, and was surprised when the other Yuugi smiled at him and nodded in understanding.

"It will."

The walrus bailiff had come to take him into custody, whereupon he would be taken back to the detention center from which he had seemingly so long ago escaped.

_Other me? _he prodded, not truly sure if the other could hear him if he did not speak (he could not before, after all), _how did you break us out before? _

Yuugi did not feel comfortable gazing at the semi-opaque projection of his other self, or speaking aloud, so he hoped that the other would either have been able to somehow hear the thought, or return to Yuugi's heart where they could converse.

It was the former.

"Why do you ask, _aibou? _I thought—"

_And I am, _Yuugi replied, easily anticipating the question. _I just wondered—_

"I used the Fire Axe—"

_Jounouchi-kun's trick, I remember that much, but I don't understand how—_

"I'm the King of Games," said the other, confident and with a grin. "I realize now that I have dominion over all games. I can manipulate them; I can call them out into reality. Duck."

Yuugi easily dodged the volley of airborne slippers targeting him on his approach to the police car. _I guess that makes sense, _he thought as he climbed into the backseat of the car, ignoring the crowds of reporters screaming his name, or the fangirls calling for his head. The other Yuugi slid in through the closed door with a brief expression of amusement.

"Was there anything else?" he asked, settling so it looked as though he sat far too close to Yuugi for how spacious the backseat really was; their legs were pressed together softly. Yuugi felt the ghostly hand slide over his own, let the flesh-feeling fingers intertwine with his own.

_I... I guess that would explain the chess set, on the train, _he added, still lost in thought as the car began moving. His thoughts were quiet after that, his ponderings only slight upon the past, and the future. He did not wonder as to what caused this transition that allowed the other to hear his thoughts – if he did, he'd have to ponder how the other could project outwards, or how the other Yuugi existed in the first place, and Yuugi's thoughts were far too focused on himself to want to travel down those answerless roads.

Yuugi's quiet ponderings were cut when the other Yuugi leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"After breaking out last time," he murmured against Yuugi's flushing cheek, "do you think they'll leave us unsupervised?"

Yuugi's choking fit confused the policemen, but when the driver tried to pull over, the passenger said something, but Yuugi didn't hear any of this because the other Yuugi was exhaling very shallow breaths onto his ear.

_I'm pretty... pretty sure they won't let— ah! What are you doing?! _

Yuugi could feel and hear the vibration as it traveled along the shell of his ear from where the other Yuugi hummed.

"You're brooding," muttered the other, pulling away. "I hate it when you brood." Almost reluctantly, the other Yuugi pulled away, and when Yuugi turned the other had already faded back into the Puzzle. Yuugi sighed, allowing the officers to escort him once more into the Domino City Detention Center.

The place was teeming with about twice as many people as it had been that day, several weeks ago, and the way everyone seemed to slow down and stare at Yuugi did not make him feel at ease.

As he was led through the detention center, Yuugi tried to maintain a posture of confidence under all the malicious stares, but it was getting so old by this point. After passing through the main foyer, Yuugi was escorted into one of the smaller corridor hallways leading to the holding cells.

"Kid! You, yes," called one of the policemen not escorting Yuugi, a man with a mohawk so obscenely tall and dyed so ostentatiously bright that Yuugi knew instantly that he could only work behind a desk and hated every minute of it; Yuugi was essentially dragged to this man's station, and he had to force himself to relax.

Mohawk lazily pointed his cheap disposable pen at Yuugi, the cap of which was chewed beyond functionality. "I'm going to have to confiscate that necklace of yours."

Yuugi's eyes widened in fear, and his hands grabbed the stained Puzzle, tarnished still with blood even after so long.

"Wha-what? Why?" Yuugi asked with a stutter, scared. The other Yuugi was coiled tightly within him, ready to surge forward and attack them all for the threat, and almost all Yuugi's attention went to keeping his other self from doing so.

"There's no need to be alarmed, son," said Mohawk, his eyes not fixed on Yuugi's face; "you just can't take something so large and valuable with you into a cell. It's my job to make sure you're not hiding anything inside it that—"

"Inside?!" Yuugi's voice cracked on the word. "You want to break it open?!" His imagination easily projected the image of a couple police officers, tearing apart his Puzzle, splitting the pieces between them to melt, or sell, and Yuugi was panicking. He couldn't get away, couldn't let the other Yuugi out, couldn't, couldn't, couldn't do anything. "You can't! Please, don't!"

They had his arms, he couldn't break away, couldn't prevent Mohawk from pulling the necklace off of him, couldn't stop the other Yuugi from going, he who screamed **_AIBOU! _**to echo only in Yuugi's heart, couldn't stop shaking and almost crying. He couldn't let them destroy his other self, he couldn't!

"Please, there's nothing inside it, please, it took me _years_ to put that together, don't, don't—"

"Jeez, the kid's hysterical, what do—augh!" Yuugi, in his panicked flailing, had elbowed one of his escorts in the stomach and broke to freedom, but barely restrained himself from jumping the man who held his Puzzle.

"Please," said Yuugi, his arms low and extended away from his body, "you can... you can keep the Pyramid away from me, but I'm _begging_ you not to break it. Please."

Mohawk looked at the gold of the Pyramid, and his was a malicious smile. "I don't think breaking it would be necessary," he said, his voice oily and sly, "it feels like solid gold to me. I could probably just melt it—"

"Watanabe! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Mohawk – Watanabe – blanched at the voice. "Chief?"

Yuugi turned, sizing up the ox of a man who now stood behind him, nearly filling the corridor with his presence.

"I said," he said, his voice strong and deep like something rising from the depths of the ocean, "what the hell do you think you're doing? Because to me," he said, moving slowly forward and nearly atop Mohawk, easily smothering the other man's temporary power-trip, and the Chief's large and calloused hand was outstretched, "it looks that you're breaking half a dozen ordinances of conduct, and threatening to destroy the personal property of someone who hasn't been proven guilty of anything. Is that what I'm seeing, Watanabe?"

Mohawk shook his head, and he handed over the Pyramid instantly to the Chief. "No sir, I was just confiscating this, sir."

The Chief gave a bit of a hum. "That's good to hear, because if the kid here reports you for any of those half-a-dozen ordinances, you're on two months probation with reduced pay. You got me, Watanabe?"

"Like herpes from a hooker, sir,"

The Chief merely looked Watanabe in the eye before he began stuttering excuses about a shift in the mailroom before he fled from his desk and escaped the room entirely. The Chief shook his head, and muttered something under his breath that Yuugi couldn't catch; Yuugi's attention was fixed anxiously on the God Puzzle. Would merely being separated from his other self be enough to lock the other Yuugi back onto that black slab, or was it only the naming that had done so? Yuugi wasn't sure, but could only hope. Dammit, they hadn't cared the month before – why were they taking it now?

"Sir?" asked Yuugi, noticing for the first time that his two-man escort had apparently fled along with Mohawk when the Chief came in. "Can I... can I have my Puzzle back? Please?"

The man looked sympathetic, but shook his head. "Sorry kid, but rules are rules. Regulations are tighter these days, after some idiot let some brat escape a few weeks ago." He gave a half-hearted shrug, his attention turned elsewhere. "I don't really know all the details; I only got transferred in after everyone that was here got demoted and transferred out for the screw-up." The Chief lightly bounced the Pyramid in his hand, feeling the weight of it. "Besides, you could easily use something like this as a weapon."

_You don't know the half of it, _thought Yuugi, but he pressed on. "Then... can you give it to my Grandfather? It's a family heirloom, and I..."

The Chief nodded, and Yuugi released a sigh of relief. His grandfather knew the dangers of the Puzzle better than anyone, probably even more than Yuugi.

"Sure, we'll call him up, tell him to come visit."

Yuugi bowed, relieved. "You don't know how much that means to me. Thank you so much."

As it turned out, they didn't have to call anyone at all – only a few minutes later Yuugi's grandfather came to visit, and when confronted with Yuugi's request, his grandfather carefully took the Pyramid and wrapped it in his suit jacket. With a hug, and assurance of visiting either later or the next day, he left the police station without ceremony to take the Pyramid somewhere safe.

This was now the second time Yuugi had been separated from his other self, but after a moment of reflection was able to release his panic. It had only been the false name that bound him before, after all – the Puzzle and his other self would be waiting at the Game Shop for Yuugi to come home. After all, he only had to win an innocent verdict in court in order to see his other self again.

It was only a matter of time.

* * *

--

* * *

It was early evening now, and due to the obscene length of the trial that day, no one felt up to dragging Yuugi into questioning _again_. For that, at least, he was grateful, and he would have been content to just sleep until court reconvened the next morning, but one of the many clean-cut and seemingly nameless guards had escorted him out of his cell.

"You've got a visitor," he'd explained at Yuugi's questioning look, leading Yuugi into a heavily monitored room of few features, consisting of three thick gray walls, a long desk, and a thick Plexiglas window showing the room adjacent. The person sitting on the opposite side of the glass was not someone Yuugi expected to see here.

Yuugi crossed to the empty stool set directly across from the window and calmly took up the telephone receiver.

"Hey, Yuugi," said his visitor softly, but though Yuugi still felt hurt the smile came easily.

"Hey, Anzu. I thought—"

"What, aren't you glad to see your big sister?" Anzu said meaningfully, her eyes opened wide and staring to convey her message. Yuugi nodded in understanding.

"I heard Grandpa has you working in the shop?"

Anzu nodded. "Yeah, you know me, always strapped for cash." She smiled at him winningly, everything about her just as he remembered, but it did not make his stomach tighten or his face flush as it once had. After all...

"Anzu? Why are you visiting me?"

Anzu's free hand was coiling itself nervously around the thick metal cord of the phone, a frown on her face. "You're my friend, Yuugi, I haven't seen you in ages! I was worried about you, and everything—"

"You want to know if I'm guilty," he said in quiet realization, a sense of chill depression filling him with no one there to help push it away. Anzu looked surprised, or shocked, or scared, Yuugi couldn't tell.

"What? Yuugi, I—"

"I saw your interviews, Anzu," he said without anger. "You think I'm guilty, and you want to figure out why, right? It's okay."

Anzu looked frantic. "Yuugi, I don't know what you're even talking about!"

"Everyone knows you shouldn't trust a boy without a father, right, Anzu?" Yuugi said sadly, and Anzu's jaw clenched tightly shut. "Isn't that how you feel?"

"You _lied_ to me, Yuugi," she said, tears nowhere near her throat, "you said he was away on business. I was friends with you when it happened – do you know how _embarrassed_ I was when I asked your mother about what your father thought? God, Yuugi, what the hell were you thinking?"

Yuugi recoiled at the anger in her voice. "I... it wasn't a big deal, I—"

"Your dad _died_ and it's 'not a big deal'? Yuugi, that's pretty much the biggest deal there is! Why would you hide something like that from me?"

Yuugi really, really wished his other self were here to help him find the words – he hadn't even been reunited with the spirit for all that long before he was taken away again. He sighed. The other Yuugi was not the only person he wished he could have back.

"To tell you the truth... I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to feel sad over something that you couldn't change, or wasn't your fault."

The guard on Anzu's side said something Yuugi couldn't hear, but she covered the receiver and responded in an obviously terse manner. After a moment she turned back to Yuugi, shaking her head.

"They're kicking me out, can you believe that? And I'm still mad at you, you idiot." The tone in her voice, though, told a different story: Yuugi recognized the joking pitch. She was, amazingly, close enough to forgiving him that it was almost a full pardon. He smiled.

"Don't worry. As soon as this is over you can bully me into, well, whatever, until we're okay. Okay?" At his lighthearted smile, Anzu frowned.

"You really think you'll get an innocent verdict?"

She did not say how high the Domino City conviction rate was, or how very little of the evidence presented in court that day really seemed to help him, and how high the odds were stacked against him; she did not need to.

"Of course I will," he said with a truthful smile, his voice not hopeful, but confident; "I'm innocent."

She gave a tiny laugh down the telephone line, and she was smiling, even when the guard came to escort her back out of the room; Yuugi remembered exactly why he had been infatuated with Anzu. She was a good friend – a best friend – but she could never hope to compete against the spirit of the Pharaoh.

The Pharaoh never lost to anyone, after all.

* * *

--

* * *

Anzu turned out being his last visitor before regulation hours barred any potential others, but Yuugi didn't mind; he knew his mother and grandfather had jobs to do and Yuugi's Puzzle to watch over, so this sitting in his cell doing nothing wasn't too terrible. He'd tried sleeping, but being fed and loud noises kept interrupting his rest. It was a little after three in the morning, and now Yuugi couldn't sleep because he'd had too much already.

He stared at his unceasingly uniform ceiling, without even cracks to count or stains to shape like clouds. He sighed. If the other Yuugi were here, they could talk about how weird it was to see his loved ones again, or how the trial went, and Yuugi could tell him about the times he'd been to court before. The other Yuugi would not have stories to tell that were his own, but if Yuugi got too lost in worry and woe the other could distract him with shadow puppets or a new game or with kisses and touch. If the other Yuugi were there, he would have told Yuugi the moment when a man quietly and suddenly walked through the wall itself into Yuugi's cell.

Yuugi didn't notice him until the man spoke, whereupon Yuugi flailed in surprise and nearly fell off his cot.

"Are you he who solved the Millennium Puzzle?"

Yuugi, settling himself after his scare, sat up and examined the intruder before him. In the dim light emanating from the emergency lights outside, the man's white clothing appeared blue, and his dark skin reflected light eerily.

"Who are you," asked Yuugi, stilling his hand from reflexively clutching a Puzzle that was not there. The man's stare did not waver from Yuugi, who could not help but think there were many things very wrong here.

"You are he who solved the Millennium Puzzle, are you not?" The foreign intruder asked again, and suddenly Yuugi's attention was finally caught upon the balance in the man's hand, and the pendant around his neck. Yuugi had not seen them before, but the book had described them perfectly. The Scales and the Key; two of the Just Seven. Millennium Items.

Yuugi nodded. "I am," he said, trying to inject the other Yuugi's confidence into his voice. "What does it matter to you?"

Again, the man ignored Yuugi's question as he nearly glided, ghostlike, to Yuugi's side, but he did not sit on the cot. Yuugi wanted to stand, but it would not have helped: he was in a locked cell in the middle of the night, so where would he go? He felt a very unwelcome sense of déjà vu at the scene. He stared up at the foreigner, finally seeing one of the things that was wrong. This man's eyes were empty, just like Souzouji's on the witness stand.

The man held out the Scales, easily balancing the Item flat on one palm. With his free hand, he pulled from his turban a small feather, appearing blue in the darkness.

"This is a Millennium Item, like the Puzzle," the man said, but Yuugi already knew this. As soon as he saw the feather, his grandfather's old stories came to mind, combining with Yuugi's knowledge from the book on the _Just Seven_; Yuugi knew precisely what this meant.

"You're going to weigh my heart," he said quietly and with great trepidation. The Scales were one of the very last of the Items to be used in those ancient trials for a good reason. "Against the feather of _Ma'at. _Why?"

The man placed the feather in one of the two golden trays. The Scales tipped and shifted briefly, but remained balanced.

_"But grandfather, hearts are heavier than feathers!" _a younger Yuugi had said, fiddling with the pieces of an incomplete jigsaw, _"How can anyone ever win?" _

"A man has insulted you," said the man, his empty eyes staring unblinkingly at Yuugi. "He has challenged you, broken your possessions, stolen from you, and hurt you repeatedly. Do you fight back to reclaim your honor?"

Unbidden, memories flooded Yuugi's mind: the bullies from his school years were now merged and nameless in his mind, pushing him, taking from him, hurting and hurting and hurting him again. Ushio and Souzouji and Inogashira and others were there, but they were only recent; there had to be dozens of figures that flowed through his mind.

_"Your treasure, huh? You sound like such a girl, Yuugi-kun." _

And all of them were Jounouchi – the Jounouchi that tried to make him fight, the Jounouchi that insulted him, the Jounouchi that stole the final piece of the Millennium Puzzle. The Jounouchi that Yuugi tried to defend from Ushio's attack. The Jounouchi that became his friend.

Yuugi opened his eyes.

"I forgive him," he whispered, and he heard the scales shift, but dared not look upon them, instead fixing his gaze on the empty eyes of the intruder with the Millennium Scales. The man stared back at Yuugi, and he too did not look to the Scales.

"A wealthy woman lies intoxicated in your presence. A beautiful bracelet of exquisite gems has come unfastened from her wrist, and now rests discarded on the floor. She will not notice it missing. Do you attempt to remedy her intoxication?"

_"Are you upset that I quit playing?" _

"Yeah," Yuugi said, "I'd try to find one of her friends to help her." Again the Scales shook, but neither man would look.

"The intoxicated woman is very beautiful," he continued, "and has offered herself to you. You know nothing about her save her beauty."

_"Solitaire," _murmured the other Yuugi, and suddenly they were in the police car and he was kissing Yuugi's ear, and he was tied down and so vulnerable to whatever Yuugi wanted to do to him in the Labyrinth of Black, crying out in pain, and Yuugi shook his head.

"No," he whispered, remembering the temptation of the other in that dark place, remembering succumbing only to the still-platonic comfort of the other's forehead.

There was another audible shift, and a soft clunk as the trays became unbalanced, and the perpendicular support bars chimed against one another. Both men looked down at the unbalanced Scales. One face was calm; the other, shocked.

_"It is a very heavy feather," _whispered a younger Sugoroku in Yuugi's past.

"Impossible," muttered the man, his empty eyes widened and confused. "No heart can weigh less than the feather of _Ma'at. _"

For when they looked down, it was as if the Millennium Scales were not magical at all; the empty tray representing Yuugi's heart was elevated higher than that of the one possessing the feather. The memory of a man with skin as black as leather came to Yuugi then, his two hands each covered in thick, red blood. He had held something in each of his hands, but Yuugi could not then tell what they were – they were so small and mutilated, something inherently not right about them – but now the answer was so obvious.

"Unless it is not a complete heart," Yuugi whispered, comprehension coming at last. If a starfish were cut in half, it would become two starfish, but it still took time for each to become whole once more. Somehow, somehow, the trapped Pharaoh had been only half a heart, and somehow – somehow, Yuugi was too. Not perfect halves any more, for they did not line up to become one, but not perfect wholes either.

The feather of _Ma'at_ was said to be calibrated to the weight of the Just and Nameless Pharaoh's heart. To be only a fraction of that same heart...

The man pulled the Scales away, visibly shaken. "I saw your image with the completed Puzzle," he confessed, staring at Yuugi's hands clutching the edge of the cot, "and I can not allow for it to be wielded by a criminal. It is my family's duty to protect the Items. I cannot allow us to fail further."

Yuugi's eyes drifted back to the golden pendant hanging from the man's neck – the Millennium Key, the Ankh of God. Something about it nagged at Yuugi, a half-understood suspicion, but he could not find the connection, not quite.

"He who carries the Pharaoh's heart," said the foreigner, his eyes kind even in their hollow expression, "are you innocent of the crimes for which you have been imprisoned?"

Yuugi nodded. Then, and only then, did the foreigner actually smile, though the gesture was small and barely visible in the darkness.

"The Puzzle has chosen you, and though at this moment it is out of your reach, its magic still clings to you. Even if the pieces fall away, it will call to you. Just as Osiris called out to Isis, even though his body lay broken and scattered about the land. This ordeal shall pass, I swear this," he said, retrieving the feather from the tray and returning it to its place among the folds of his turban, "though others will be swift to follow for he who bears the Pyramid of God.

"Rest now, young King," It was probably magic, but Yuugi quickly and easily felt fatigue gnawing at his eyes, and though he only blinked for a moment the stranger was gone. As Yuugi fell back against the cot, the stranger's final words replayed in his mind, hitching on a phrase.

"Like Osiris called to Isis," Yuugi repeated, groaning softly with an arm held over his eyes. "Dammit, why am _I_ always the girl?"


	17. in which there is an ending of sorts

**Sight the King**  
17/21  
"in which there is an ending of sorts"

* * *

**_even when they have bloated their bodies with magic_**

* * *

The next day of court passed much more swiftly than the first, even if Yuugi did not have his other self to help distract him. The limited witnesses were all members of the prosecutor's scientific panel, analyzing various aspects of the crime scene. One explained that the defense's argument that Hikari's slit throat was suicide was impossible, because Hikari showed signs for struggling with someone wielding the knife from the cuts on her fingers; another showed that the broken lock on the door proved that Yuugi and Jounouchi had obviously broken down the door on their way in (and even when Hoshikage called the man out on the fact the police had broken the door on their way in, he claimed it was impossible to prove that the door _hadn't_ already been broken).

The prosecution had even called in 'witnesses' who had apparently seen both meetings between Yuugi and the sisters, and almost all of them claimed that _he_ was seducing _them_. All of them except the woman in the cosplay wig, that is. Yuugi nearly didn't recognize her: Grandmother Norie, the ice cream vendor.

"Yuugi isn't the first person I saw talk to those girls and 'disappear.' They've been doing it for weeks," she said, and Yuugi heard the way she consciously controlled her voice to sound less naturally unpleasant. "Usually it was older men, so I simply thought they were… well. The type of girls who exchange one type of favor for another."

The prosecutor pulled her off the stand as quickly as possible, but the damage had been done. At Hoshikage's triumphant smirk, Yuugi had stared at him for a very long moment before his attorney whispered that one of Kaiba's detectives had found the woman and, after hearing her story, had convinced her to come forward for the prosecutor with a very vague testimony as to what she saw in order to get on the stand. Yuugi wasn't sure if it would be considered cheating by the rules of court, but didn't really spend too much time worrying about it.

Hoshikage did an outstanding job shooting down the 'scientific investigation,' arguing that the only possible way Yuugi would have been able to slit Hikari's neck would be if she not only didn't struggle at anything near full strength, but sat down and _let_ him do it, because Yuugi couldn't even win physical fights against primary school kids. This, in addition to the fact that this murder weapon itself had originally come from a knife block on top of the refrigerator, and without any way to climb up that high, Yuugi would not be able to have even acquired the knife himself in the first place.

The third day passed similarly to the second, as did the fourth, and fifth. When he wasn't in court, Yuugi was either sleeping in his cell, or in the visiting room with his mother, or grandfather, telling and retelling a highly abridged version of what he'd been doing and where he'd gone while on the run from the police, about his adventures in Titan. When Yuugi told his mother about the sheer difficulty he'd had trying to get on a boat, gesticulating wildly with one arm about how the boats kept winding up getting set on fire whenever he tried to board passage, she had begun crying and laughing at the same time.

"Oh Yuugi," she'd murmured softly down the telephone wire, "I wish I knew whether I can be happy that you couldn't leave."

"You can," he replied back, just as kindly. "I am."

It was the next week, on the start of the seventh day of trial, that Hoshikage finally took the offensive.

"Your Honor, I'd like to call Police Chief Yoshikuma Daisuke to the stand." It was the man that had saved Yuugi's Puzzle from destruction, despite the logical reasoning that Yuugi was an accused criminal who – if the man had done any investigating into the break-out the month before – was likely to be guilty for having been the escapee during his previous internment. If Hoshikage looked like a giraffe, then Yoshikuma looked like a lion, as cliché as it seemed. Well, actually, Yoshikuma looked like a cross between a lion, a jackal, six different breeds of bear, and some obscure type of hydrangea, or like every action hero with a puffier haircut.

"Chief Yoshikuma-san," Ace began, "you have heard the defense's stance on this heinous crime, have you not?"

"I have."

"Then perhaps you won't mind answering this: shortly before the incident in question, is it not true that for several weeks, the Domino Police Department had been dealing with a sudden spike in deadly crime?"

"Yes. The spree started about three weeks before the murder in question, with a new body turning up every three to five days, give or take."

"Your honor, I object to this line of questioning," interjected the prosecutor calmly; "these other crimes are completely unrelated to the murder of the Sasori girls!"

"That's what I thought too, until the spree stopped immediately after the night in question," responded Yoshikuma with the calm deliverance of a personified lake, and Mikami looked positively betrayed.

"Go on," said the judge; Hoshikage looked happier than Anzu had when she'd finally gotten accepted to her elite dance school.

"What can you tell us about these crimes, Chief?"

"Almost all of the victims were male," Yoshikuma stated clearly, his professionalism showing through brightly, "mid-twenties to early fifties. We're used to serial killers going after young women as, on average, it's much easier to overpower a younger woman as opposed to an older man. The radius of theses attacks is a rather broad area, but the homes of the defendant and both households of victims lie well within several blocks the area's general center."

An unnatural hush filled the room as the Chief of Police spoke, his voice so full of calm power that Yuugi's hands began shaking under the table. It wasn't possible, what they were implying – it wasn't! It couldn't…

"And how were your teams able to determine that these men were all killed in the same spree?"

"One of my men in the forensics ballistics department determined that the bullet etchings in all those cases were all made by the same pistol, a _Kazama Power JS-32_, but it's a rather common weapon more often referred to as a _Power Jazz_."

"Could the stenographer please repeat for the court the type of gun that was used to murder Jounouchi Katsuya and Sasori Hebi?" asked Hoshikage, his question so absolutely confident that Yuugi had to sneak a glance to the prosecutor; Mikami was guarding his expression well. "It was brought up in the autopsy reports, I believe."

Mere moments later the stenographer looked up, startled. "The same type, Hoshikage-san. _Kazama Power JS-32_."

The crowd did not speak. Hoshikage's smile was very small, but even then it reached his eyes.

"Chief Yoshikuma-san. Seeing as how these two guns are of the same make, same caliber, would their bullet etchings match if they were simply two different but identical guns?"

"No. Every gun has an individual etching. Even identical twins have different fingerprints."

"And did your team, Yoshikuma-san, compare the murder weapon from this case to the murder weapon from the spree killings?"

"They're a perfect match."

"And to whom," shouted Hoshikage over the rising surge of noise from the crowd of onlookers, "To whom is the gun registered, Yoshikuma-san?"

"Sasori—"

The noise was so loud, so overpoweringly loud, Yuugi had to cover his ears from the pain of it, shouting coming from every direction of the courtroom. The prosecution, the cameramen, the judge, everyone in the stands watching, they all were shouting, screaming, and even the slamming of the gavel was drowned out, but still Hoshikage and Yoshikuma were the loudest voices; even then, Yuugi could barely hear them over the din.

"And _why_ didn't—sooner—now?"

"—local records—sing, had to—Interpol, who were—country of purch—_Morocco_—corruption—"

"—catch all that, sten—further questions, your—"

* * *

--

* * *

It wasn't possible. This wasn't happening. Yuugi had been anxiously hoping that they'd be able to place the crime on Hikari's hands, where it belonged, but not like this. To discover that they were the ones responsible for all those murders? It was… it was… it was somehow relieving, but still more guilt for Jounouchi filled Yuugi's heart. God, he really wanted his Puzzle back, or anyone he could talk to, someone that could help him make _sense_ of all this! The only person he could think of who _could_ wasn't even in the courtroom. He really, really wanted his other self back.

"For my final witness, I would like to call Tanitaki Norie to the stand."

Yuugi looked over to the prosecutor's table, and instantly wished he hadn't. Mikami did not look particularly perturbed by this series of events, but there was resignation in his shoulders: he knew he had lost. It was Sasori Tadashi that frightened Yuugi – the man was enraged, his carefully arranged appearance was in shambles. Noticing Yuugi's stare, the man's attention turned to Yuugi, his eyes wide and jaw clenched. Upon meeting Yuugi's gaze, all of the anger and hurt seemed to drain out of the man, and he nodded to Yuugi cordially. It was the acceptance of defeat, and Sasori smiled.

It was not one of his trademark smiles sold to photographers, or one painfully etched onto his face. It was the most sincerely happy smile Yuugi had ever seen in his life. It was the scariest thing Yuugi had ever seen in his life.

He turned his attention quickly back to his attorney.

"I have here a collection of photographs that have never been released into the public scrutiny, either by image or description," said Hoshikage, holding up an unremarkable brown folder; for a moment Yuugi panicked, before remembering Kaiba had burned _that_ file. "These are a selection of photographs of the various murder victims from the spree killings that the defense is attempting to connect to this current case as conclusive proof that my client, Mutou Yuugi, is innocent of wrongdoing.

"Now, Tanitaki-san, when you were last on the stand, you claimed that you saw several older men meet with the Sasori sisters in the weeks before their deaths; is this correct?"

"Yes, sir, it is. I saw five separate occasions."

Hoshikage nodded. "If prompted, would you be able to tell the court about these meetings you witnessed? Namely, will you be able to describe the men you saw with the girls?"

Grandmother Norie nodded, slowly. "Yes… well, they were at a distance, so I don't think I could identify them by face," she said, slightly scared, "but I can give you dates and times and what they were wearing. I keep a diary, you see, and I brought it with me…"

She held up a small pink notebook, emblazoned with the image of a penguin knitting a parachute. Hoshikage took the notebook, flipping through it easily, before handing it to the judge.

"Let the record show that the notebook contains a timestamp of purchase," said the judge, "of two months prior to the date of the murder, as well as periodic timestamps throughout. Ma'am, why would you timestamp a diary using an actual stamp?"

Grandmother Norie smiled, her jagged teeth shining like those of an injured jungle cat. "I occasionally volunteer at the Domino Library of Books and Things. We have timestamps. I like using them."

The judge returned the notebook. "I'll allow it."

"Tanitaki-san. Could you please describe the first man you saw?"

Grandmother Norie nodded, flipping through her notebook quickly towards a middle section, her eyes scanning the page swiftly. "Oh! I think I can identify this one, Hoshikage-san. He was a customer of mine. Here – 'he nearly threw his copy of Chekhov at me, but I couldn't do anything about the chocolate ice cream stain on his green suede jacket. He looked a lot like Kenji' – that's my late brother, – 'but his eyes were all wrong. I didn't ask him where he got the black eye, or the tattoo on his neck, though it was a rather well-inked dragon, if one were to appreciate being marked as a criminal for the rest of one's life. When he stalked away, he started talking to a girl decades younger – his daughter? I hope she's more polite to her elders.' "

Hoshikage held up a photograph of a man on an autopsy table, a lightly bearded fellow with a long stripe of green on his neck and half his face blown off from a fatal gunshot. "This man was found dead in his favorite green suede jacket in the basement of the _Croissants and Enough Booze to Kill Your Family_ pub, four weeks before the night in question. He'd been dead for two days from the, ahem, _obvious_ injury. The date of his disappearance and that of Tanitaki-san's testimony match up perfectly, as does the fact his jacket is stained with chocolate ice cream. The bullet etchings also match perfectly.

Hoshikage kept pressing Grandmother Norie on her other sightings – she was able to get through two more descriptions, perfectly placing a man with a hunched back and a homeless kid who wore an extremely large cereal box instead of pants, and potato chip tubes on his emaciated arms.

"I've heard enough," said the judge, and Yuugi could _hear_ all the cameras turning and zooming in on the man; he glared at all of them. "I've heard that both murder weapons belonged to the Sasori sisters, and I am suitably convinced that Sasori Hikari could only have been killed by suicide due to both the initial location of the weapons and the lack of suitable evidence to the contrary. The fact that Mutou Yuugi did not suffer from a powder burn from the gunshot proves it impossible for him to have shot himself. There is evidence that the two sisters have been heavily involved in previous murders, using a weapon to which the defendant could not have possibly had access prior to the night in question.

"At this point," continued the judge, "I feel I can confidently rule that Mutou Yuugi is hereby found innocent of all counts of murder, and that these crimes can now posthumously be attributed to the Sasori sisters Hebi and Hikari. Since they cannot be punished personally for their crimes, their financial estate shall hereby be broken and divided evenly amongst the surviving families of their various victims, if such families exist. Case Dismissed!"

There was screaming. There was laughter. There was crying and tears and when Hoshikage returned to the defense's table to shake Yuugi's hand, Yuugi couldn't reach up to meet that grasp because his mother was hugging him too tightly.

"Congratulations, Yuugi," said Hoshikage, towering over Yuugi and radiating pride. Yuugi felt a bit giddy at the sound and thought that as soon as he got home he was going to dig through their video collection to see if they'd recorded any episodes of _Magical Fondue Coaster Mansion_, and he would watch them all, and—and he was going to go home!

"Thank you so much, Hoshikage-sama!" Yuugi exclaimed, trying to keep himself from laughing, "You were amazing!"

Hoshikage shook his head. "Thank Kaiba-sama," he said, ruffling Yuugi's hair in familiarity and happiness, "he's the one that was able to exhume all the evidence. You wouldn't believe how many people we had to, erm, bargain with in order to find some of those documents."

Yuugi was being dragged out into the lobby, where grandfather and Anzu and Honda and a thousand other people were gathering around, wanting to congratulate him or shun him or get his interview, and even the fangirls who threw ballet slippers at him and called him a liar and a phony couldn't bring down his good mood. Yuugi smiled and laughed and accepted hugs gratefully, but there was really only two people he wanted to be with right now: the death of one had been the catalyst for this whole event, and the other was waiting for him!

But when Yuugi tried begging to leave, his mother shook her head. "Go celebrate with your friends right now – I'm going to set the house up, and your grandfather will bring you home when it's ready, all right?" Yuugi nodded, his smile slightly less than enthusiastic.

"All right. Thank you, Mama." She gave him another tight hug.

"It's so good to have you back for good, Yuugi," she whispered conspiringly, trying to joke her way out of crying.

"I missed you too, Mama." He whispered back, just as furtively, "I love you."

She really was going to start crying, so Yuugi gave her a playful shove.

"Go on!" he said, smiling brightly, "I want to go home soon!" She smiled, and with another hug, she was finally on her way.

Just a little while longer.

* * *

--

* * *

"—and then I came back to Domino. The end. You saw the trial."

Yuugi had already sent his closer friends and acquaintances on to the Game Shop for what was meant to be his surprise "Welcome Home" party, but Yuugi's mother had never been the most subtle of people. Now all Yuugi had to do was slip away from the last of the reporters, find Grandmother Kameyo to give her directions to the Game Shop, and without the two crossing paths find his Grandfather and _finally_ go home. Ah! There she was, off near the painting of the Historic Founding of the Domino Courthouse centuries earlier. Not much had changed.

"Grandmother!" Yuugi called, jogging to the elderly matriarch. Kameyo smiled at him warmly, spinning her chair to face him.

"Yuugi-kun. Congratulations on your victory in court today. I was very impressed." Yuugi shrugged, but the giddy feeling of freedom could not be shaken from his expression.

"It's all thanks to Hoshikage-sama, and Kaiba-kun, and you that I even had a shot in this."

Mutou Kameyo looked surprised, but it eased gracefully into a gentle smile. "Me? What ever did I do?"

Yuugi just kept smiling all the brighter. "Hey. Everyone's going back to the Game Shop to celebrate. Would you—I mean, you don't have to, and I know it's awkward, and it'd not be the perfect time to see—"

"Yuugi," she interrupted, reaching up to cup Yuugi's shoulder gently, "if you can face the threat of a life of imprisonment with courage, I can certainly face my own husband. At the very least I can make the effort."

Yuugi couldn't stop the laughter that bubbled out of him as he hugged his biological grandmother, and feeling her tentatively squeeze back. The directions he gave were rapid and precise from years of instructing customers by telephone. She promised she would arrive there soon, but had to stop first at her hotel.

As she rolled off, Yuugi was finally free to go find his grandfather again (who, last he saw, was speaking amicably to Hoshikage about something or other, but had forced the attorney to sit down because "all this looking up is giving me a terrible pain in my neck!"), and go home.

"Excuse me, Mutou Yuugi?" _Dammit!_ He turned, hoping it would only be a reporter so he could tell her he was done with interviews, but when he saw the girl his hope sank. Teenage girl, possibly a Sasori fangirl, he should get ready to dodge and run. Wasn't security supposed to have kicked them all out by now? Then again, she didn't really look like a fangirl, but it was hard to tell with the amount of bandages obscuring her face. He looked stuck again. Damn.

"Um, yeah. I'm sorry, do I know you?" The girl shook her head, and it seemed like she was relaxing in his presence.

"Oh, no, we've never met, but… I wanted to thank you."

This was getting unaccountably weird. Yuugi was getting used to weird as being the very outlandish sort – this was just… well. Weird.

"Thank me? Why?"

The girl shifted her weight a little, clutching at a white cane in nervousness. She obviously couldn't see with all those bandages, but was she blind?

"I… I want to thank you for being such a good friend to Katsuya. He mentioned you in his letters."

Synapses were firing in overdrive, and eventually the answer bubbled up in Yuugi's mind. "You… you're Jounouchi-kun's sister. Shizuka, right?"

She smiled, and nodded. A wave of guilt crashed against Yuugi, and he began stuttering and stumbling over his apologies and condolences.

"I'm so, so sorry for what happened to Jounouchi-kun, you have to know I never meant for anything—"

"Mutou-kun, you don't have to apologize to me," Shizuka said, coming closer and groping in the air much too high for his shoulder until, after a careful moment of weighing which would be less embarrassing, he tentatively guided her hand down. "The judge said you didn't kill him, right? So it wasn't your fault. Unless the judge was wrong?"

"No, but—"

"No. Mutou-kun." Shizuka was probably trying to imitate that she was gazing into his eyes, and though her stare was a bit too high it was much closer than her hand had been to his shoulder. "Do you blame my brother for you getting shot?"

"What?" Yuugi asked, bewildered. "No, of course not, Jounouchi-kun couldn't have done anything—"

"See?" She gave his shoulder a squeeze, smiling gently. "You couldn't have done anything. My brother wouldn't want you to beat yourself up for it. He'll do that himself the next time you see him."

In the distance, Yuugi heard a slightly panicked woman calling Shizuka's name, likely her mother, and Shizuka pulled away.

"Wait," Yuugi said, lightly catching her wrist, " 'the next time I see him' ?"

Shizuka laughed. "Just because a season ends doesn't mean it's gone forever. Rain falls, plants grow. Just because a story ends, doesn't mean another one can't start. You'll see him again someday."

"Shizuka!"

"… and I hope I'll actually get to see you soon, Mutou-kun," she said as she backed away, turning her head slightly to catch her mother's voice, but still smiling brightly, "after all, you're going to have to tell me how my brother conned you into being his friend in the first place!"

* * *

--

* * *

"SURPRISE!"

The Turtle Game Shop, longer by half than the family's sitting room but usually crowded with tall shelves packed with gaming supplies, was boisterously loud and crowded instead with people. Anything that wasn't bolted down had been pushed along the far walls, and any of the shelves containing merchandise were covered with colorful cloths to both simplify the appearance of the large room and to deter any party-goers from becoming thieves of convenience. On the main shop counter, where normally Yuugi's grandfather would ring up purchases or solve cross-hatch logic puzzles during slow times, a series of large platters were displayed, each laden with buffet fare; by the time Yuugi arrived, the platters were already cleared by half.

Hung from the ceiling was a large banner celebrating Yuugi's acquittal and return home, and he wondered softly how far in advance his family had commissioned the sign: things like that couldn't be thrown together hastily over a weekend, and Yuugi did not know how much something like that would cost, anyway. That gesture alone made his heart ache for joy.

Everyone was there, though at least half of them were people Yuugi didn't know. His classmates, his friends, his family – even those relatives that apparently really did exist up in Monopolis had come down for the party. Hell, even both the Kaiba brothers were there, keeping mostly to themselves.

Yuugi laughed and accepted the congratulatory embraces gratefully, relishing in his welcome home, even if he could tell the neighbors were lying when they said they'd always believed it would turn out all right for him in the end. Just being back in his own home was enough to balm his nerves when his friends finally approached him, having been fidgeting and delaying for twenty minutes beforehand. Even though they had said such… _uninformed_ things while he was gone didn't mean they weren't his friends. After all, Anzu had come all the way down to the detention center, just to visit him! Sometimes your friends did stupid things that made you angry, and made you want to hate them, but Yuugi knew now that that's just the way it worked, and he was perfectly willing to forgive.

They didn't even have to ask. "It's okay, you guys," he said, hoping he was reading their silence correctly, "you—"

"Dammit, Yuugi, it's not okay," muttered Honda quietly, obviously considerate of their surroundings and not wanting to cause a scene. "We sold out on you. You were in trouble, and we abandoned you. How is that okay?"

"I ditched you first," Yuugi said softly under all the noise, "you had no way of knowing what happened. I looked guilty. I can't stay mad at you for that. If it had been one of you—"

"You wouldn't have doubted for a moment," Anzu said, shaking her head. "You didn't, not when Jounouchi-kun…" Anzu bit her lip, turning her gaze away from Yuugi. "Even when he didn't move to protect you, you still…"

Yuugi bowed his head, remembering. "It's okay, really," he murmured, his voice and his sorrow both soft. "You know me. Didn't you used to tell me I was too trusting for my own good, Anzu?"

"We should have trusted you," said Honda, a subdued anger in his voice that Yuugi knew Honda wasn't directing at Yuugi, "like you would have trusted us."

Yuugi exhaled a nearly silent sigh, closing his eyes; he was tired, he had lost sight of his grandfather as soon as they got back to the Shop, and the person Yuugi wanted to speak to most (to whom it was still _possible_ to speak) wasn't here. Many of the people Yuugi wanted to see most were permanently beyond his reach, but his other self was not among them.

He looked up then, forcing a bright smile on his face though it was weighted at the corners with fatigue. "You can make it up to me later, I promise," he said, crooking his head to the side. "We can all go to Kaibaland when it opens, and—"

"Yuugi."

_Argh_, thought Yuugi with little venom and less anger, _more people?_

"Kaiba-kun?" Yuugi asked, turning. Kaiba Seto stood near an uncovered display case, its clean blue bed sheet having fallen to the floor. It contained packages for _Organic Life Shoot-Out Invasion_ and _Monsters Kill You Dead_. At the latter, Yuugi flinched, and after turning his gaze away from the booster decks he made a note to put those games under the counter, where he wouldn't see them every day when he walked home from school. He didn't want to be reminded of the cards had been spread out upon the table, or the bent and bloodied corner of the Fire Axe. Yuugi closed his eyes against the thought before turning his full attention up to Kaiba's face.

"I'm feeling generous," said Kaiba, without a trace of the aforementioned emotion in either his voice or his features; his eyes were dark and slightly mad. "So I'm giving you a week to prepare for our duel. I will win the Blue Eyes White Dragon."

Yuugi gave another exhausted smile. "We'll see, Kaiba-kun. I'm going to do my best to protect Grandpa's precious card."

Kaiba gave a scoffing laugh, his shoulders shaking. "Let us see how well you handle my secret weapons, Yuugi-kun. Mokuba! We're leaving." At the call, Kaiba's younger brother turned and was thus easy to spot, having been pulled from a conversation with Yuugi's grandfather; Mokuba gave a small, barely visible sigh before coming to Kaiba's side.

"Bye Kaiba-kun, Mokuba-kun," Yuugi called after them, but neither Kaiba made to turn at his call. Not even the Shop door's bell jingling its farewell got a response from the brothers, but then again the bell was accustomed to being ignored. At least Yuugi had discovered where his grandfather had been lurking. With a quick apology and excuse to his friends, Yuugi made a swift beeline to his grandfather, who had been partially hidden out of sight behind one of the displays for _Monster World_, one so tall even on a step ladder Yuugi couldn't touch the top.

"Grandpa?" Yuugi queried at the man's pensive disposition. His grandfather turned, easily shedding his despondent focus with a smile.

"Yes, Yuugi? Shouldn't you be catching up with your friends?"

Yuugi laughed, embarrassed, and nodded. "Actually, I was wondering where you put my Puzzle. I… miss the weight of it."

Grandfather stared at Yuugi then, as if he were weighing Yuugi, and Yuugi could not help but remember his encounter with the man with the Scales.

"In your room," he said after a long moment, his eyes focused on something far beyond where they rested on Yuugi's face, but…

Yuugi shrugged off the thought and gave his grandfather a quick embrace of gratitude before swiftly weaving his way around the well-wishers that didn't even notice his presence to the exit of the Shop. Soon thereafter, Yuugi was dashing up the stairs, easily flinging open his bedroom door.

Not much had changed in the month of his absence, since he and his other self had raided the room before their departure for Titan. The books and papers on Yuugi's desk had been straightened, and the dimming ceiling light bulb had been replaced. His bed was made with different sheets than when he left, and next to a small pile of folded laundry was the rucksack Yuugi had taken with him on the journey, but left in Kaiba's care while Yuugi had been alternately in court or in detention.

The carpet looked freshly vacuumed, and as he walked towards his bed Yuugi saw the small pile of money on the corner of his dresser; money that had obviously not been there the night he left. Momentarily bewildered, Yuugi quickly counted the number and amount of the slightly crumbled bills, scattered as though not all placed at once, and in realization he felt a sudden swelling of warmth spread throughout his torso.

It was five weeks' worth of allowance.

They hadn't been keeping his room clean and maintained in order to enshrine his absence; they had been expecting him to eventually come home again. Yuugi wanted to run right back downstairs and give his mother a hug at the gesture, but not yet.

There, resting on the center of his pillow, was the Millennium Puzzle. It seemed to sparkle at him in greeting. Nearly leaping across the room, Yuugi flung himself onto the bed and his arms around the Puzzle, holding it tight to his chest like it were more a prized stuffed animal than a pyramid of gold.

"Other me! Pharaoh!" he called, his hands jittery as he looped the lanyard over his head, "I'm—"

But what he was, Yuugi couldn't say, for the sudden weight against his side startled him both into silence and into nearly toppling to the floor. Arms wrapped around him quickly to prevent this latter situation, holding him tightly in place.

"_Aibou!_" the other Yuugi exclaimed, nearly crushing Yuugi's ribs with arms that did not hold the strength or physical presence to even swat a fly. Yuugi's laughter bubbled and flowed from him as though he was its natural geyser, his own arms returning the embrace with equal force, and he nearly sighed in the bliss of the echoing feedback the returned gesture initiated. That Yuugi was even there in the room dispelled all the other Yuugi's fears of Yuugi's fate, and the reverse was also true for the fact that the other Yuugi had manifested outside the Puzzle; almost all the dark thoughts and the inner loneliness that had been growing in their absence from one another began to shrivel away.

"I was afraid I'd lost you forever," whispered the other Yuugi, his grip impossibly holding on tighter, "so afraid that I would never even _know_ if you suffered, if you died—"

"I will always come back to you," swore Yuugi, his lips sealing the words into the translucent skin of the other's cheek softly, each word thereafter sealed into a different place, "even if it takes a hundred years, a thousand, anything, always—"

"Next time I will not wait."

Yuugi's lips stilled against the other's neck, a sense of dread slowly creeping across his nerves.

"…what?" he whispered, completely still save for the words, "other me?"

"No." It was forceful and strong, and Yuugi's body was turning to ice. "I will not wait for you to come back to me."

Yuugi didn't notice how tightly he was clutching the other's shoulders, did not notice how he was shaking with something other than fear until the other's hands pulled at Yuugi's own. He didn't even notice how very still he was until the other Yuugi was tilting Yuugi's face up with a series of nudges with his nose and lips. The other Yuugi was smiling.

"I am not patient," he whispered conspiringly, his lips lightly moving across Yuugi's; not a kiss, not quite. "And I won't wait for you to come to me; I will find you first."

Yuugi released a breath he hadn't noticed was being held, and the other Yuugi captured the escaping wind and its source. Slipping somehow closer, Yuugi poured his relief and joy into the kiss, adjusting the hold his arms had on the other. He let himself get lost in the intense feeling of warmth and comfort that emanated from every little gesture the other Yuugi made, from the way he would trap one lip, then the other, or how his fingers would tease the short hairs at the juncture of the back of his neck and skull.

"We'll find each other," promised Yuugi, his heart aching, "and I'll never let you go again."

"Always," the other murmured into Yuugi's hairline, "always, always."

Yuugi pressed his face into the other's neck, against the translucent collar resting there that mimicked his own, and he wished, wished, wished that they could stay here in Yuugi's bedroom forever – or at least for the rest of the week – but the voice of Yuugi's mother was calling up the stairs, that though she knew he was exhausted could he _please_ make an effort to at least say _hello_ to his visiting relatives. It was a voice reminding him of his obligations to the rest of the world, and reluctantly Yuugi forced himself to pull out of the comforting embrace.

They were together again. That was enough.

* * *

--

* * *

Yuugi, mentally and emotionally exhausted of people, vehemently refused being forced to face them yet again, and so instead he pushed the other Yuugi into the forefront and into control of their body. For the first time, Yuugi tried pulling out, manifesting into a ghostly form. It was a trip, to state it mildly. The other Yuugi had to suppress a grin at the jubilant way Yuugi experimentally pushed himself through walls.

_Aibou, your friends are going to think you've gone insane if they catch me laughing at a wall,_ the other Yuugi murmured internally, their mental connection stronger now than even just before they had been separated last. They had just re-entered the Game Shop proper, and the other Yuugi was pointedly not focusing his full attention on Yuugi's up-close and completely useless examinations of the wiring in the walls. Yuugi shrugged.

"All right. I'll tone it down." Pulling himself completely out of the wall, Yuugi scanned the room to see who still remained. "You don't need me to introduce you to anyone, right?" The other Yuugi gave a short nod, approaching Yuugi's friends when they called for his attention, his smile short and strange on Yuugi's face. There had been almost no differences between the physical appearances of Yuugi and his other self's ghostly projection, but even those differences were both apparent and slightly muted when the other wore Yuugi's skin. Approaching the small cluster, Anzu and Honda standing so close their shoulders nearly brushed, Hanasaki from… Yuugi couldn't remember what class, but he was lurking halfway in, halfway out of the group, unsure of his welcome; significantly distant from those three stood Yuugi, nervously succumbing to Honda's goading and beginning to tell a much abridged and highly inaccurate version of how he had come to receive Kaiba's aid. The more the other Yuugi as Yuugi spoke, though, the more confident he seemed to get, and the more extravagant and exciting the tale, and Yuugi as the ghost didn't bother to hide his smile. Yuugi liked the idea of his other self being comfortable enough to interact with his friends; maybe, someday, he'd be able to tell them the truth about his other self, and they might have enough of a history to not simply want to have Yuugi committed to a mental hospital. But for now…

"I haven't seen Grandmother the Titan," Yuugi said into his own ear when the other Yuugi paused to collect his thoughts, "I'm going to go see if she's hiding somewhere, all right?"

The other Yuugi bowed Yuugi's head minutely, smiling. _You have good friends, even if they do not yet know it. It will be all right._

Of course, the other Yuugi had spoken too soon: it was not three minutes later, when Yuugi was completely distracted with mortification upon stumbling upon someone in the bathroom and blurting his apologies, only to remember that the other person couldn't actually see him and then becoming _more_ mortified until he finally managed to make himself leave the room, that Yuugi heard the bewildered voice of his other self calling for help. When Yuugi returned to where he had left his body and his other self in charge of it, Yuugi was met with a very disquieting sight.

Yuugi – the other Yuugi wearing Yuugi's skin – was rooted to the spot with a very maintained blank expression on his face, as though trying to remain unaffected by the fact that Anzu, who had a good half a foot greater height than he, had her face buried against his neck and her arms thrown about his shoulders as though she were crying. Her body was hunched somewhat awkwardly to manage such, but at least she wasn't crushing the Puzzle into Yuugi's ribs.

"What did you do to her?"

_Nothing! I am very sure I did nothing!_ The other Yuugi in Yuugi's body did not turn to look for Yuugi physically, but when Yuugi touched his left hand to his own body's limply hanging right, Yuugi's body relaxed minutely.

"Have you… _asked_ her what she's doing?"

There was a pause. _I… no._

There was another pause. "A-anzu? What a-are you—?"

When Anzu squeezed tighter, the other Yuugi physically grimaced. "It was you, all along," she said softly, shaking her head against (and presumably wiping her tears on) Yuugi's dress shirt.

Neither Yuugi had any idea what she was talking about, but the Yuugi that was not being held by Anzu was able to figure out what she meant.

Oh, hell.

Even though he wasn't interested in her like _that_ anymore, Yuugi still felt the painful stab of rejection, and he buried it poorly under fits of laughter. "Ah, I see," he said, shaking his head. "Looks like we don't have to share at all, other me. You can have Anzu, and I can have Kaiba-kun. Everybody wins!"

_Not helping_, glowered the other Yuugi, trying to find some way to push Anzu away without hurting her. _And if Honda–kun assaults us later for this, you'll be the one living with the bruises._

Turning his attention to where his physical body was looking, the ghost Yuugi saw Honda caught returning from the mostly-depleted buffet table, scarcely five feet away from their little cluster, staring at the other Yuugi and Anzu with mixtures of anger and hurt. _Well,_ thought Yuugi privately, _that's… huh. Unexpected._

"Okay. Um. Okay," Yuugi stuttered, turning his attention to his other self. "I have an idea. Um. You have to tell her this with a straight face, okay?"

As Yuugi detailed to him the plan, Yuugi didn't think the other Yuugi would be able to pull it off, not from the way he could see the other Yuugi trying to hide pained laughter behind clenched eyes and pursed lips.

"Anzu," said the other Yuugi through a tense throat, his voice not all that markedly different from Yuugi's, "as much as I… er, wish… I could return your, um, affections, my—" _—Aibou, I can't do this. I can't—_

"Sure you can," said Yuugi in return, giving his body a small affectionate punch to an exposed area of his arm, "unless you would prefer to be dating Anzu, I mean—"

"—my heart belongs to a man no longer bound to flesh," the other Yuugi said, very quickly and a tad too loudly, with his face burning red as he averted his gaze from everyone. At that proclamation, Anzu shot up and away from Yuugi, her hands tightening in her surprise. Yuugi nearly felt bad for the shocked expression on Anzu's face, and on Honda's for that matter, and for the flush of embarrassment on the flesh of his own, but if it had to be done this way—

"I… have to go now," said the other Yuugi in Yuugi's skin, carefully removing Anzu's hands from their body. "Grandpa… you know…"

"Wait a second," said Anzu in sudden confusion, "I thought you were straight?"

"… love knows no boundaries," said the other Yuugi in a deadpan after an awkward pause. "And I'm going to go now—"

"Wasn't Jounouchi-kun straight though?" asked Hanasaki, who'd apparently not left at all but was merely overlooked in the exchange.

"Going now!" exclaimed the other Yuugi, pulling away and looking for somewhere to hide. Yuugi's combined expression of sympathy and amusement wasn't helping.

_They now think you were in love with Jounouchi-kun, _muttered the other Yuugi as he busied himself straightening out the buffet, _and I am never interacting with people in your body again. _

Yuugi wrapped his insubstantial arms around his former stomach, bending to press his face into the other Yuugi's upper back.

"It wasn't so bad," murmured Yuugi, "and now you don't have to worry about Anzu stealing me away from you. Or anyone else, for that matter." Yuugi kissed the skin on the back of his own neck, smiling, and would have continued if not for the sudden squeak of rubber wheels on linoleum tiles. "That's Grandmother Kameyo!" Yuugi exclaimed, spinning to locate the wheelchair-bound woman. "She came! She's going to confess to Grandpa! We have to go watch!"

If anyone thought it strange when Yuugi began walking across the shop with his arm extended, as though being dragged, no one commented upon it. Surreptitiously the other Yuugi hid himself behind a cardboard display for the new _Buxom Battle BRAwl_ fighter game, his spiky hair thankfully hidden behind enormous cardboard cleavage. The spirit Yuugi was able to more openly watch the scene. Grandpa was adjusting the cloth coverings on one of the displays where people had been haphazardly placing their used tableware when Grandmother wheeled up to him, leaving several feet of distance between them.

"Excuse me, are you the owner of this shop?" she asked, her voice betraying nothing save curiosity. "I realize the shop is closed, but—"

"Oh, it's no problem," said grandfather, "and yes, I'm the owner. Is there anything in particular you needed? I won't be able to sell you anything today, I'm afraid."

"No, that's all right," she said, waving her hand. "Actually, I need some help with a puzzle I received from you—your shop." It was then that Kameyo pulled from a large pocket on the back of her chair a non-descript white box that looked more like it should contain a shirt than a puzzle. It rattled as she held it out to Yuugi's grandfather. "I can't ever get more than halfway through before I'm stumped."

Grandpa took the box with a smile, leading Grandmother Kameyo to one of the permanently low-set gaming demonstration tables near the entrance to the stock room, already cleared off due to its previous designation as Location of Plastic Cups and Bottles of Soda.

"Other me, do you think he'll take the news all right?" Yuugi asked, and the Yuugi in Yuugi's skin shrugged, turning away from the scene to bid goodbye to some nearby party-goers.

_I do not know, aibou, but I do not think this is something we need to watch. _

Yuugi nodded. "Mm, you're probably right," he said, turning away, leaving his estranged grandparents to their game.


	18. in which stuff happens

**Sight the King**  
18/21  
"in which - well. You know. Stuff happens."

* * *

**_at Nesisi, the island of fire._  
_He cooks the leftover gods into a bone soup._**

* * *

It had not seemed like a long party, but it had been an obscenely long day, and even the other Yuugi felt their body's exhaustion. Making their excuses, the other Yuugi was finally able to slip away from the crowd, quickly making his way back up to Yuugi's bedroom. Once the door was locked behind him, Yuugi and his other self switched control again, and Yuugi allowed himself to collapse on his freshly made bed, and instantly too comfortable to get back up again, he kicked the clean clothes on the edge of the bed to the floor. It was good to be home.

The other Yuugi appeared to be sitting on the bed, facing Yuugi, his hip touching Yuugi's knee. Yuugi kicked off his house slippers and his socks as well, smiling at the dull thud they made against the floor and the clothing already constructing their little burial grounds.

"Hello ceiling, hello bed," Yuugi said quietly, smiling and stretching his arms under his pillow. "I never thought I'd be able to come back here."

"I remember," said the other Yuugi, his hand resting on Yuugi's leg and somehow, even though he was not a physical person, Yuugi felt the heat from that hand sink down into his marrow. "I'm glad we were wrong. I don't think I've ever seen you this happy."

Although it was not the other's intent, the words gave Yuugi a flash of guilt – for Jounouchi and his sister Shizuka, for Hebi and Hikari and their father Sasori, for Souzouji and, and, and – before he pushed it away. It was his first night home after weeks away: he could set aside those feelings for now.

"You know what would make me even happier?" Yuugi asked with a smile, shifting up onto his elbows. The other Yuugi gazed at him questioningly, though that melted into a small, answering smile.

"What would make you happier, _aibou_?" the other asked, but Yuugi just shifted over slightly and patted the empty mattress beside him.

"It's a secret," he said, looking away briefly as though it would hide the grin on his face, "you're too far away for me to tell you."

The other Yuugi rolled his eyes, but his lips were still quirked in amusement. "The trials I endure for you," he muttered darkly as he made a show of stretching himself out on the bed next to Yuugi, their equal height aligning them perfectly: toe to toe, nose to nose.

Though the other Yuugi had complied with the request, and was now as close to Yuugi as he could without lying atop him, Yuugi remained silent behind a painfully sincere grin.

The silence stretched, until finally the other Yuugi sighed. "This is the worst secret-telling I've ever been a part of."

"Oh, hush," said Yuugi, "you've never been part of a secret-telling."

"And that's how I know this is the worst," he answered back. If the other Yuugi had thought that such prodding would result in an answer, he quickly realized his mistake.

"_Ai--bou_," he wheedled, staring into Yuugi's eyes, "if there's no secret, why—"

"It's strange," Yuugi whispered suddenly, his grin receding, his eyes almost unfocused in the darkness; his voice seemed to trail off, the thought unfinished. The other Yuugi waited, but not even in their shared heart did an answer come forth.

Eventually, with a low grumble, he poked Yuugi gently in the stomach, hoping for a response. "Tell me—"

His question was cut off by a soft hand to his cheek, and a subdued and softer smile on Yuugi's lips. "We share the same body, and even when you're out like this you look mostly like me – my height, my hair, most of my scars…"

"_Aibou_?" The thumb swept across the other Yuugi's cheek, brushing through eyelashes as the lid fell closed. The other Yuugi tried scowling at the thumb moving over his eye, but Yuugi's small syllable of laughter made his expression melt away.

"But your face… even when you're hiding behind mine, it's so…" The hand on the other Yuugi's cheek stilled for a moment before sliding back, fingers combing into the base of his translucent hair.

"So?"

But what it was 'so,' Yuugi didn't say, for he had instead shifted forward and _pulled_ and was using his lips to kiss the insubstantial mouth of his other self. Though they had kissed before, it was still a bit of a shock to the other Yuugi that Yuugi would _want_ to kiss him in the first place, so even as his mind succumbed to the thrumming sense of feedback, he delayed. He was late to participate, but not unwilling, not unsure.

Lying on their sides to kiss limited their range of motion, and having two forms on a bed built for one didn't help, but it didn't matter; their lips had all the room they needed to purse and pull at one another, enough room for one tongue to cross over to give some heated moisture to the other's inherently arid mouth. The other Yuugi had no blood or tears in this form, and never ate – what use had a spirit for saliva?

The other Yuugi let his hand rest upon Yuugi's hip, but it was Yuugi who allowed the hand to stay, placing his own atop it, Yuugi who allowed that hand to pull them closer together. It only took a shifting of a leg before Yuugi pushed himself up, kissing the other Yuugi down onto the mattress, sliding his arms behind the other's back to prevent him from being pushed _into_ the bed. In such a position, Yuugi could not explore the other's form as freely as the other Yuugi could the reverse, and the other Yuugi took shameless advantage to smooth his hands over the flat planes of Yuugi's sides through the increasingly distressed dress shirt, over Yuugi's back, and onto his shoulders.

The other Yuugi had no real effect on the world other than on Yuugi – his weight did not press into the bed, he cast no shadow of his own, and he could only _feel_ solidity the bed abstractly; it was only real to him because Yuugi needed it to be so, and if the other Yuugi got too far lost he might very well fall through wherever Yuugi did not hold him, solid matter holding no resistance to him.

Similarly, though Yuugi had taken off none of his clothes save a jacket several hours earlier and socks mere minutes ago, when the other Yuugi ran a hand over Yuugi's clothed arms the material offered no resistance: his ghostly hand would pass through, straight to flesh. As the other Yuugi ran fingernails that did not physically exist through a material that surely did to rake lines down what should have been the inaccessible flesh of Yuugi's back, Yuugi gave a shudder and a sigh into the kiss, smiling, and both tightening his hold and spreading his arms beneath the other Yuugi, as though hearing his fear of falling away.

Though Yuugi's body was already slick with sweat, the other Yuugi was still as dry as bones, as dice. Yuugi shifted his legs to lay around the other's, their bodies aligned perfectly, and the heat of Yuugi's legs against his own was so inviting and pulling that the other Yuugi could not have stopped the upward thrust of his hips if he'd tried, couldn't help that even though there were several layers of cloth between them it only felt like half, could not stop the clenching of his hands or the groan that passed from his lips into Yuugi's. Similarly, he couldn't help but accept the returning noise from Yuugi's mouth, and the way Yuugi easily crushed his hips back down, feeling the hands under him clench against his back.

Yuugi pulled away from the kiss, obviously disoriented even past the flush on his cheeks and the darker turn of his eyes, relishing in the feedback and the bloodless flush on the other Yuugi's face.

"So perfect," he whispered, pulling one arm out from under the other Yuugi, then both, so he could strip himself of his shirt. The other Yuugi's hands fell away as Yuugi sat up, but the expression of rapt attention and lust made Yuugi grin as he began unfastening the column of buttons. Tossing the shirt aside, Yuugi slipped the lanyard of the Puzzle free of his neck and gently lowered it off the side of the bed, letting it rest on the floor, out of the way. Sitting back up full, Yuugi spread his arms in a gesture of display for the other's dazed and covetous eyes.

"So perfect," whispered the other Yuugi, shifting himself up to sitting, though it was difficult what with being pinned at the waist and not truly having real leverage beneath him. Once up, the other Yuugi's hands fastened on Yuugi's hips and he began trailing hot kisses over Yuugi's chest, taking Yuugi completely by surprise: Yuugi had expected the other Yuugi to strip, too. But then again, he really wasn't _another_ Yuugi at all – he was a spirit, a Pharaoh, not Yuugi, never really Yuugi—

"Ah!" --¦ --¦-- – --¦ --¦--¦ – --¦ --¦--¦- – --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--'- --¦ --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦-- --¦-- -- --¦- (_--¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --, --¦_). --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦ -- --¦ --¦--, --¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦ --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦- - --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦-, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦, --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦, --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦.

--¦--'- --¦- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- - --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦.

"_Aibou,_" --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦--'- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--, --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦-.

"Always," --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-. --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦ -- --¦ --¦--. --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦, --¦ --¦--¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦-'- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-.

--¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--, --¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--'- --¦, --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- - --¦--¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦'- --¦-. --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--, --¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦- -- --¦- --¦- - --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- – -- --¦ --¦- --¦ _--¦--¦-_ -- --¦--¦- --.

-- --¦ --¦--¦-- -- --¦--¦- --¦-, -- --¦ -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦-'- --¦--, --¦-'- --¦--¦, --¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦. --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--; --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--.

_--¦- --¦ --¦--_, --¦--¦- --¦--; --'- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--.

--¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦, --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦-- -- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--. --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--, --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ -- --¦-- --¦-- --¦.

"_Ai-aibou_?" --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- - --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ -- -- --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦. --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- - --¦-- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦-- -- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦-. --¦--¦-- --, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦ --¦ -- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦-. --¦- - --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦-- -- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦- -- --¦--.

--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--'- --¦- --¦-, --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--. --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- (--¦-- --¦, --¦- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦ --¦-, --¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--?), --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦, --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦-. --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --, --¦-- -- --¦-- -- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- -- --¦--¦-, --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦-- -- -- -- --¦ --¦- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦-. --¦-- --¦--¦- - --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ -- -- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦.

"_Ai-ai-aibou_," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦. --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦- -- - --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦-- (--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --).

"Always," -- --¦--¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦-- -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--'- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦--. --¦--'- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦ -- --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦.

"Please," --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- _--¦--¦--¦_ -- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦--. --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦-.

--¦- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦- -- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦ - --¦--¦, --¦ -- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦-- -- --¦-- – --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦-- --¦- – --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- -- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--. --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ - --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--'- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦, --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦ - --¦-- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦ --¦-- -- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- - --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-. --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-.

--¦--¦- --¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦-, --¦--, --¦--¦-, --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦. -- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦-, --¦--'- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦.

-- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦-- -- --¦, -- --¦ -- --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- -- -- --¦ --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦. --¦-- --¦--¦'- --¦- --¦ --¦--, -- --¦-- --¦- --¦; -- --¦ - --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦--, --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- -- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-.

--¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--, --¦--'- --¦ --¦--¦--¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--.

"Ahhhh, aibou," --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦, --¦--¦, --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--, (--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦-- --¦--), --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- -- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--.

--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦- – --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- -- -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦- – --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦ - --¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦. --¦- - --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦-, --¦--'- --¦-- --¦--¦-- - --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦-- --¦ -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--'- --¦--.

--¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦ -- --¦-- --¦--. --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--, --¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦--'- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-. --¦-- --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--. --'- --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-; -- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--, -- --¦ --¦- --¦- _--¦--!_ --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--. --¦- --¦ --¦ - --¦- --¦--, --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦--.

--¦-- --¦- - --¦--¦ -- --, --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦, --¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦--. --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- -- -- --¦--. --¦-- --¦--¦ --, --¦-- --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦.

"All right?" Yuugi asked in a whisper, brushing a hand over the other Yuugi's exposed torso. The other Yuugi trapped Yuugi's hand beneath his own.

"_Aibou_," he whispered, a low undertone of confusion and awe evident in his voice. Yuugi's eyes were drifting shut, but he made an effort to focus on the other Yuugi beside him.

"Mm?" The other Yuugi's hold on Yuugi's hand tightened briefly, and Yuugi gave a comforting squeeze back.

"You… you didn't have to do this," he whispered, letting his hand slide from Yuugi's and gesturing to the bed, "I mean… instead of… _I_ could have—" Yuugi smiled, fatigued, at the other Yuugi's hazed fluster.

"I know," said Yuugi, closing his eyes, too sleepy to keep them open. "But it's not like I didn't enjoy it, other me."

Yuugi shifted, his arm shaking and heavy as he pulled the kicked-aside blanket to cover his and the other Yuugi's naked forms, although of course the blanket simply passed through the latter.

"But why?" asked the other Yuugi, leaning closer to Yuugi, hoping he would not yet fall asleep. Yuugi opened one bleary eye to the curious face, and couldn't help but smile.

"There is nothing and no one more precious to me than you," whispered Yuugi, closing his eye once more, "and I wanted to show you that."

Yuugi did not see the smile that plastered itself across the other Yuugi's face, one of surprise and wonder and love. Had he seen it, Yuugi would have cherished the memory of it for the rest of his life.

"I think that about you too, _aibou_," the other whispered sincerely into Yuugi's ear, hoping that Yuugi would carry those words with him into sleep. The other Yuugi then lay down flat beside Yuugi, pushing his semitransparent form as close to Yuugi as he could, giving the illusion that he, too, lay under the covers. He wrapped an arm over Yuugi, kissing his brow, and prepared for the sleep that would claim his insubstantial form back to the Puzzle. It was as his eyes closed that he heard Yuugi murmur softly as the latter began to drift off.

"_Of course you do_," whispered Yuugi, not knowing that he was heard, or even that he spoke, "_you don't know any better_."

The other Yuugi's eyes opened, confused, but Yuugi was asleep before the other Yuugi even had a chance to think on the words. Had Yuugi been awake, he would have heard the quiet stream of curses, and would have been forced to stifle inappropriate laughter at the way the other Yuugi tried slamming his fist against the mattress in anger. The air of frustration around the other Yuugi was palpable, his whole body wound tight.

That someone as brilliant and wonderful and giving and loving and _perfect_ as Yuugi could see no problem with sharing his very life with anyone as freely as he did with the spirit of the God Pyramid, and to _love_ him and protect him and save him and all – that Yuugi was so _blind_ as to not see his own virtue! It infuriated him; how had the other Yuugi managed to fail Yuugi so completely, that Yuugi would doubt the other Yuugi's heart? Doubt his _want_ to be with Yuugi? Unable to do anything else, the other Yuugi instead slammed his fist into his own leg, his features contorted in a bitter scowl, and even then the contact made no sound no matter how many times he repeated the gesture.

Receding to shadow, the other Yuugi raged at his own failure – even after all they had done, all they had been through, the other Yuugi had never once been able to convince Yuugi that he was truly worth something – had failed to prove his own devotion to Yuugi, failed to prove that Yuugi was appreciated and wanted and loved for who he was in return, that of all possible people the other Yuugi could never imagine anyone better to entrust his heart.

Shadows of vases and statues and skulls flew and shattered across Yuugi's dimly lit walls, the darkness playing a show of silhouetted destruction, but eventually it scaled back down to the shaking and weary form of Yuugi's shadow, locked in his own impotent range.

Again, again, he had failed his most precious partner, who slept on, undisturbed.

* * *

--

* * *

The other Yuugi was quiet the next day. Yuugi hadn't noticed at first, what with grandfather's huge announcement at breakfast about how, by the way, not only was his long-dead wife not actually dead, but that because they had so much catching up to do they were going to go on a short trip to Jenga, where Yuugi's grandfather and father had lived before they'd finally moved to Domino.

Yuugi continued to not notice the uncharacteristic isolation when he had to go to school a whole hour early in order to speak with a couple councilors about what he would need to do in order to catch up, they scolding him for not maintaining his study habits while evading police custody, (as if Yuugi had study habits to begin with). He did not even notice when he sat through several classes with everyone staring at him and whispering behind their hands and his back. Even when Yuugi went out to eat his lunch on the school roof with his friends – to avoid the blaming and distrusting stares of his classmates, though Yuugi was surprised by the fact no one tried to actively steal his lunch, and he spent nearly half the period trying to assure Anzu and Honda and Hanasaki that _really_, he forgave them, just help him catch up in his schoolwork! – the silence of the other Yuugi did not weigh heavily on his mind.

This is not to say that Yuugi is a cruel person, or heartless, or cares not for others who suffer. If the other Yuugi knew that anyone would accuse Yuugi of such, that person would be shown their error when it would be Yuugi that would spare that person's heart from destruction. Of the two, Yuugi is the more compassionate, more merciful, and the one who is much more likely to seek out the reason for someone's sudden emotional distance.

That Yuugi did not notice the other's significant presence-yet-silence is only pointed out to illustrate these few things: Yuugi was still quite used to being alone in his head, as is the natural state for almost all inhabitants of the Earth, so a few hours of Yuugi engaged in his own thoughts is much more common for him – and everyone else, at that – than sporadic pseudo-telepathy. Even after assembling the Puzzle and becoming aware of the denizen within, communication with the other Yuugi was not as frequent as one would initially assume, and upon all this was Yuugi's rather unfortunate tendency of being separated from the other Yuugi by means both physical and inexplicably magical. For another, this was the first true day of reacquainting himself with his old life, and as busy and as stressful as it was, Yuugi barely had a chance to have a thought with himself, let alone his other self.

On top of this, even though the other Yuugi was in a state of emotional turmoil and suffering from feelings of inadequacies, Yuugi had thus far been given no indication or even a hinting of such; it should be pointed out that Yuugi would have stopped everything at the shortest sign of such turmoil. It should not be expected that Yuugi would notice this situation for quite a bit of time, considering also how well the other Yuugi was intentionally hiding from Yuugi, and considering how skilled the other was at doing so.

Therefore, the fact that it was not until Yuugi was walking home from school that afternoon that he noticed this silence should be taken to show that Yuugi is an observant individual, and that only taking ten stressful and busy hours to notice is, in fact, a good thing.

(Had it been any of Yuugi's friends or classmates in a similar situation, notice probably wouldn't have been taken until the next morning at the earliest.)

Or, to put it another way: when Yuugi internally called to his other self with a touch of worry, even the other Yuugi was surprised.

_Aibou? Is there something wrong?_ He asked, hesitant to manifest visually when Yuugi was in such a public place. Yuugi shifted his rucksack-cum-backpack, full now of textbooks and small wooden puzzles instead of the clothing and medical supplies it had housed before, and he exhaled slowly.

_Not with me, no, but…_ replied Yuugi, dodging the other people on the street with ease, _you have me worried, a little. You haven't said anything all day_.

By second nature Yuugi glanced at his shadow, cast upon the store walls he passed, even if it was only the result of his eclipsing of the sun.

_I didn't want to intrude_, replied the other Yuugi. _I thought it would be better if I did not distract you today_. Although the words and the reason seemed simple enough, Yuugi could not but feel his own insecurity increase.

He continued walking in silence, not quite brooding, but the fact that the other Yuugi made no move to dispel the silence did not alleviate Yuugi's distress. If anything, it made him feel worse.

Yuugi was more than halfway to the Game Shop before he spoke again. _Other me? Do you… do you regret what we did last night? I know it was—_

_No, aibou, of course not! I—_ the answer was swift, but there was an undercurrent of sorrow, and Yuugi caught that more than he caught the words. He had to clench his eyes shut as he walked.

_Of course he does. Stupid, idiot Yuugi,_ Yuugi thought to himself where the other could not see or hear or know the words, _but he's not going to tell you because… well, he shares your brain. What's more awkward than… than regretting that between two people in one head? It's not like he could say anything anyway – he probably thinks you'd just lock him away if he did! Aaahhh, I've screwed it all up. _

Yuugi was close enough to the Game Shop that he didn't even need to think for his feet to find the familiar path. Grandfather said that he and Grandmother Kameyo would have already left by the time Yuugi would get back from school, so Yuugi had to fumble with the key to the front house door. Mother would still be at work, too, so the house would be empty save for Yuugi and his other self.

Finally getting the door open, Yuugi kicked off his shoes once inside, not even bothering to put on house slippers. The door, too, he kicked closed, and his rucksack dropped to the floor without care. God, where had that confident, delusional Yuugi from the night before – hell, from the whole month before – gone? Simply a brave front, and now that he was back home, everything would go back to the way it was before, only with more angry fangirls with their projectile ballet slippers and fewer friends. Again. Dammit. How bad of a lay did Yuugi have to be to fail to do well with someone who received _no_ other external stimuli _ever? _

He headed for the kitchen to do something to get over this (a good solid puzzle to build would be nice, or if he still had cards he could play some solitaire varieties he hadn't touched in ages), and the force that pushed him into the kitchen counter was unexpected and unrelenting. Yuugi cried out, twisting, wishing he were closer to the jar of cooking utensils so he could at least attempt to fight off his attacker until he saw who it was.

The other Yuugi pinned both of Yuugi's hands to the kitchen counter, leaving Yuugi trapped between it and his other self.

"Why is it," whispered the other, "that I can _never_ do anything right by you?"

Shocked, Yuugi pulled at his wrists, but the other had the leverage. "Oth—"

The kiss was not gentle, or soft, or loving – the other's perpetually dry mouth moved hard and fast against Yuugi's, their teeth jarring together painfully, the other's tongue dominating Yuugi's own – and it ended as suddenly as it began. When the other Yuugi pulled away, Yuugi attempted to follow, but the other's face was turned down, away.

"No matter what I do, it's wrong, and you suffer," said the other, his grip tight but not bruising. "I try to be your friend, you hate me, and when I try leaving, you won't let me. Any time I try to help you, you get hurt. Any time I try making you feel better, you feel worse. It always backfires. _Aibou_," again the other moved to kiss Yuugi, but this was desperate and angry and pained and Yuugi wanted so badly to embrace the raging spirit— "Everything I do pains you, and yet you hold me in such high regard – _aibou_, _aibou_, everything you do is so wonderful, and I've _never_ been happier than I was last night, with you – you were so, ahhh, absolutely, nnng, _perfect_ in every possible way and somehow, _somehow!_ I ruined that too! I don't even know how, but I must have done something wrong, because after all of it you're hurting because _obviously_ I'm so much better than you, that I'd want to leave you even though you know how much I hate when we're separated—"

"Wait, what?" Yuugi interrupted, completely confused by this whole diatribe. The other Yuugi ignored the interjection.

"_And what is so wrong with me_," he shouted, a catch in his voice like someone on the verge of crying, but of course the other Yuugi had no tears beneath all his rage, "_that I can never make you as happy as you make me?_"

The other Yuugi released Yuugi's wrists and pushed himself away, but he did not flee from the room or to the Puzzle. Yuugi was shaking from the emotional backwash, but he consciously did not rub his sore wrists. Yuugi did not know what to say; they'd had a similar fight before, and still the miracle answer eluded him. Maybe there wasn't one.

"… You thought I was perfect? Seriously?"

The other Yuugi choked out a noise, like a laugh and a sob and a scowl all blended together, and shook his head in a motion not to be taken for negation. "Everything you do is a hundred thousand times better than what I can do," he whispered, his eyes completely dry, though he did not look at Yuugi. "And unless there's something _better_ than what you did, that I can give you, then _yes_."

About a dozen different images and memories flitted through Yuugi's mind, many of them heavily digitized from videotapes, but he pushed them away and tried to hide his flush.

"Well, there's more to it than what we did, for sure," Yuugi muttered softly, leaning back against the kitchen counter; the surrealistic nature of talking about sex and self-worth with a spirit in his family's kitchen struck Yuugi with only a glancing blow, and he pushed it off as one of the least strange things about this whole adventure. The other Yuugi, though, was now standing with a stillness living humans could never hope to imitate. "And it's not like… other me? Are you all right?"

The other Yuugi's gaze turned to Yuugi, his eyes half-closed and dark, the rest of his body perfectly still.

"Other—"

"_Aibou_," whispered the other, his eyes fixed so forcefully on Yuugi that Yuugi felt more pinned by that stare than he had by the other's hands moments earlier. "I… I need you to know how precious you are to me." The movement was slow and silent, and though it screamed 'ghost!' Yuugi did not care. The other Yuugi laid his hands lightly on Yuugi's hips, and through their shared heart Yuugi felt and saw both his other self's determination and his fear, and at the latter Yuugi was confused. Why should the other fear Yuugi? Yuugi was nothing—

"That!" exclaimed the other, suddenly, quietly, his hands tightening on Yuugi's hips. "How do I show you, prove to you, that you're anything but?"

The hands on Yuugi's hips kept adjusting their grips, the strong fingers pressing on his flesh, almost massaging him, and Yuugi's eyes slid closed as his pelvis twisted minutely under the seemingly negligible attention. The other Yuugi inched forward at the reaction, his eyes focused downwards as the fingers on Yuugi's hips shifted toward a much more deliberate rolling of pressure, like fingernails drumming on a desk, and Yuugi's hips jerked with approval, memories of the night previous bubbling gently into Yuugi's mind and into his blood.

The other Yuugi was nearly atop him now, only a few inches separating their forms from contact, and Yuugi could feel the body heat of the other layering atop his own, even though the other Yuugi had no true body and thus should not produce heat. The other Yuugi's face came forward, his lips not touching Yuugi's, and Yuugi gave a short gasp when the hands slid down, kneading at the small of his back and the top curvature of his buttocks.

"What do I have to give you," whispered the other Yuugi into his ear, "what can I possibly give you to show you how much I—"

A low groan rolled from Yuugi's mouth when the other Yuugi's teeth and lips began assaulting what was easily becoming the other Yuugi's preferred earlobe, and Yuugi's hips arched forward, allowing one of the hands to slide down further along the shallow curve.

"What do you want, _aibou_?" said the other Yuugi on a breath, warm and dry like a breeze passing through fire. The hand that was not massaging and groping Yuugi's ass had instead glided upward, raking nails across Yuugi's sensitive back, even though Yuugi was fully clothed. "Anything you want, it's yours." This wind was a comforting one, exhaled before a kiss over his inner ear, "but you have to tell me what you want."

The heated mouth descended to Yuugi's neck, nipping at the exposed flesh above his choker, and Yuugi's hands instantly went up to begin unfastening the garment.

"_Please_," moaned the other Yuugi against his jaw and newly exposed neck, the buckle falling carelessly to the floor, "please, tell me what you want."

Yuugi wasn't sure if he was lifted or if he jumped, but he was on the kitchen counter, and the other Yuugi still held tight to him, trailing hot, dry kisses over his neck and jaw and chin, and it was as though he were being caressed by fire, or the sun, or a desert wind. Although the counter gave him the height advantage, Yuugi was still at the mercy of the other Yuugi's assault, and even with free hands all Yuugi could do was wrap his arms around the other's shoulders and hold on. The attack on Yuugi's neck had not yet ceased, and Yuugi's head was so far rocked back that he nearly gave himself a concussion against the edge of the dish cupboard.

Hands slid back down to Yuugi's waist and stilled, and the other Yuugi's hearth of a mouth was whispering up into Yuugi's ear, the warmth of it giving the rest of him shivers. "What do you want?"

"I… I want," Yuugi panted, the crown of the other Yuugi's hair tickling his face while the libidinous mouth continued robbing him of coherent thought, now by nipping softly at the skin below Yuugi's ear. "I want—" Yuugi's words were cut off with a groan, the other Yuugi's hands having pulled Yuugi forward, Yuugi's groin pressed tightly against the other's flat, warm stomach. Yuugi's head did hit the cupboard this time, though thankfully it was the flat of the door. Even the throb of that contact could not detract from the feel of solid heat against his trapped erection, and with the newfound (though stinging) leverage of the cabinet, Yuugi pushed back to roll his hips up and pressed them tighter together.

The hands on Yuugi's hips gave a spasm, and the other Yuugi pressed closer, panting heavily on Yuugi's skin. "Tell me," he murmured, rocking against Yuugi and possibly passing through the counter itself in the motion. "Tell me…"

Words were beyond Yuugi, his muscles jerking in awkward places, but the answer jumbled and bounced around in Yuugi's mind and their shared heart: _want burning aching fire yes want this want more more heat want want **you**_.

The hands held still Yuugi's hips, preventing him from pressing forward into the warm stomach that was now pulling away; Yuugi nearly cried out at the loss, but the other Yuugi's face had _finally_ realigned with Yuugi's own, their breaths mingling between them.

"You have to tell me what you want, _aibou_," The other Yuugi's eyes were not opaque, but they were dark and full of desire all the same, fixed on Yuugi's own.

Yuugi did not wonder as to the picture he made, ravaged, fully clothed and, to an intruder's gaze, completely alone; Yuugi merely leaned forward, whispering the words into the other Yuugi's bruised lips and open mouth, "I want you," he whispered, "I want you, you, only you…"

The other Yuugi only nipped quickly at Yuugi's lips, pulling away before the contact had even registered. "But that doesn't tell me anything," murmured the other, frowning, "I still don't know what to do."

Yuugi released a short, exasperated sigh. "Jerk." The insult was an endearment, and the other Yuugi pressed forward, kissing Yuugi fully once more. When Yuugi opened his eyes, he was struck by the surreal nature of this encounter with his other self – Yuugi could see the palm of his own hand, cupping the back of the other Yuugi's head. Yuugi could accept such oddities now, and he let his eyes slide closed once more.

"What do you _want_," the other exhaled between kisses, pulling Yuugi's hips to grind his crotch up against the other's stomach again; Yuugi gasped at the pressure, tightening his hold and kissing harder.

After a moment, Yuugi pulled away with a grin. "I want to have sex with you, other me," he whispered, kissing up the other Yuugi's jawbone to continue quietly, directly into the other's ear, "I want to feel you… I want to see your face when you climax, calling out to me, '_aibou_',"

"_Aibou_," the other Yuugi echoed, bowing his head forward, his hands roaming over Yuugi's back.

"And to know… that no one else can ever hear you, touch you, love you the way I can, the way I do," Yuugi continued, his hands sliding down to the other's shoulders, "to feel you, and me…"

Yuugi pulled away, turning his gaze to the other Yuugi's down turned face, and he tipped up that chin so he could gaze directly into the other's eyes.

"I want to fuck you, other me," he said with a smirk, pulling the other Yuugi into another fervent kiss.

Yuugi couldn't get off the counter fast enough – the other Yuugi nearly yanked him down as they tried navigating through the house while still firmly attached to one another, mouths and hands and minds more concerned with one another than the route to Yuugi's bedroom. The trip was mostly successful – Yuugi only kicked the corner of one table, as the other Yuugi had accidentally walked straight through it. Their school jackets were discarded in the hallway, and Yuugi laughed into the kiss when he saw that the other Yuugi's jacket fell completely through the floor itself. Whether it disintegrated thereafter, or continued falling to the center of the earth, neither cared.

Yuugi kicked the bedroom door shut behind him as they crossed the threshold, more out of habit than worry of being caught. It was a different door entirely that Yuugi should have worried about, but it would be hours before the matter would come to his attention, and by then – by then, the door would be the least of his concerns.

* * *

--

* * *

Being unable to directly manipulate one another's attire made it surprisingly easier to undress while kissing – Yuugi's uniform shirt and leather bracer easily passed through the other Yuugi's body entirely, and the same was true for the reverse. In that manner they didn't technically _need_ to undress in places, but it was so much more appealing to feel the thing one was actually seeing. Finally bare save the Puzzle, Yuugi's chest was swiftly claimed by the other Yuugi's mouth, the force of his exploration pushing Yuugi back flat against the closed bedroom door with a thud. Yuugi hissed in pain as his head once again knocked on a solid wood door, but the throb of the impending bruise was pushed from his mind when the other Yuugi's warm tongue began tracing circles around his nipple, his hot breath tickling Yuugi's chest hair.

"Are you all right?" --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦--. --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦- - --¦--.

"Of course," -- --¦-, --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--, "why'd you stop?"

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦--. "I… pushed you a bit hard there. Are you sure—"

"I'm _fine_, other me," --¦-- --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦-, "and the fact that you're _talking_ when you could be doing other things displeases me."

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦--¦-- - --¦-- --¦ --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--'- --¦--. "How remiss of me," -- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- --¦-.

--¦--'- --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--. --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦, --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- -- --¦--'- --¦, --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--'-.

--¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦.

--¦--¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- -- --¦ --¦--, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦ --¦-. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦, --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ -- --¦ --¦--.

"Yes," --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦, --¦ --¦--¦ – --¦--¦ – --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦. --¦--¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦- --¦-, --¦, --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--. --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦- --¦- --¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦-- -- - --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--.

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦-.

"You're back," --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- - --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦-- -- --¦- - --¦--.

"For you, _aibou_? I will always come back," -- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦--¦-, --¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦-, --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--. --¦ --¦ --¦-- -- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--, -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--. --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-, --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦--, -- --¦--¦. --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--. --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-.

"Aibou?" -- --¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm… I'm okay," -- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦-- -- -- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦--, "it's just – ah… a bit much." --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- -- -- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-. "I'm okay now."

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-'- --¦- --¦--¦--¦. "You were biting your hand," -- --¦-, --¦--¦--¦ – --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦--¦, --¦- -- --¦- -- - --¦--¦- -- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦, --'- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦- –

"It's nothing, other me," -- --¦--¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦--¦.

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-'- --¦- --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦.

"But this is the point where you let me up," --¦--¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦--¦, "so I can pound you into the mattress."

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦-. --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- -- -- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦--, --¦--, --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦ - --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-.

"Of course, if I tried that," --¦-- --¦--¦--, "I might wind up losing you to the mattress—" --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦- - --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦; --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦-- -- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦-- (--¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦--, --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--).

-- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦- -- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--, -- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦-- -- --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --, --¦—

"I want," --¦--¦ --¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--, --¦— "I want—want you— nnngh," --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--.

"_Aibou_," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦- -- -- --¦-- -- -- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --, --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦--¦--¦-. _--¦!_, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦--'- --¦--, --¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- - --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦--, --¦--¦ --¦: - --¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦--¦--, --¦-- -- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦-- -- --¦--¦--¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦. --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦; --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-.

"Wait," --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦-, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦-- -- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦.

"Wait?" --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦-.

--¦ --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦-- --¦ --, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦-- -- --¦ -- -- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦ - --¦--¦. --¦- --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦, --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ -- -- --¦--¦.

"Aibou?" --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- -- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦. "Is–"

"I just needed to grab something," --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦.

--¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦, --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ (--¦- -- --¦, --¦--¦--¦--¦--, --¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- -- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦ – -- --¦--¦ -- --¦-- --¦--¦!). --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦.

--¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦--. "… what is this?"

"It's a condom," --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- -- --¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦--¦--¦--.

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ - --¦--¦. "It's for protection," --¦-- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- - --¦--¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦-- -- -- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦--. --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦, --¦--¦ -- -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦ -- --¦-, --¦ -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--.

"Protection? From what?"

"Pregnancy—"

"Aibou!"

"—and diseases."

--¦--'- --¦--, --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦--, --¦- --¦--¦- -- - --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--.

"Aibou," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦, "I'm not a woman."

"I know that, other me, but condoms–"

"Aibou," -- --¦-, --¦- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- -- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦-. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦--'- --¦-, --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- - --¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦. --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--. --¦-- --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦--¦--¦-.

"I don't have semen, or blood, in this form," --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦--, "nor an immune system. What disease could I possibly carry? What could you have that could hurt someone who does not actually have a body?"

--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦, --¦ -- --¦--¦-. "Would you believe me if I told you I forgot?"

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦, --¦--¦--; --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦-- -- --¦--¦-- -- --¦. "You were just concerned," --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦--'- --¦--¦; --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-, "and were our situation different, then I would—"

"Other me?" --¦-- --¦--¦--¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦-. "Stop talking."

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦-- --¦- - --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦--. "Gladly," -- --¦-, --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦-- -- --¦--'- --¦-.

--¦-- --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦. --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ -- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--; --¦-- --¦ - --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦-, --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--, --¦--¦ --¦- -- --¦-- --¦- --¦- -- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦--¦--¦--¦ -- -- --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦- -- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--¦--.

--¦--'- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦-.

"Please," --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦, --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦--, "Please."

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦--¦. "I love you so much, aibou," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --, --¦--¦- --¦--. --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦-- -- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦, --¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦--¦--.

--¦--¦, -- --¦--¦, -- --¦-- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦--¦ --¦- - --¦-- --¦-. --¦-- --¦-'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦-, -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ -- - --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦ -- -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦-. -- --¦-'- --— _--_. --¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦--¦- --¦--.

_--¦- --¦-- -- --¦--¦--_, -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-, _--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦-- – --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦._ -- --¦-- -- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦- (--¦-- --¦--¦'- -- _--¦-_ --¦- --¦-, --¦-- --¦--?), --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦, -- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦-.

--¦--'- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ – --? --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦--'- --¦-.

--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦- _--¦--'-_.

"Stop, stop, god," --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--. "How could you do that to yourself?" --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦, --¦--¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦--.

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--; --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦--¦. --¦ --¦-- (--¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦--¦--, -- --¦- --¦-) --¦- -- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- - --¦-: -- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦.

_Yet again!_ -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦, Yet again I fail you, aibou…

"It's okay," --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦, "that was obviously a bad idea." -- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦, "we can try something else."

--¦--¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--'-, --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- -- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦-. --¦-- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦ -- --¦- -- --¦--¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦--, --¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦. --¦-- --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦, --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦--¦: --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --? -- --¦-— -- --¦-— --¦-. --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ -- --¦--¦-!

"Aibou, do you trust me?" -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦-- --¦--¦.

"I'm not going to–"

"No, not that," --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--, "but do you trust me?" --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦--.

"Always,"

"Close your eyes," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦--¦-, "and let me guide you." --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--'- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦, --¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦. --¦--¦- -- -- --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦-- --¦ --¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦-, -- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- - --¦--¦- -- --¦--¦--¦. --¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦--'- --¦-, -- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--'- --¦- --¦- --¦.

-- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦ -- --¦ -- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--. --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-'- --¦- _--¦--_ --'- --¦ - --¦--'- --¦- --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦- – --¦--'- --¦ --¦- - --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- - --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦. -- --¦ -- --¦--'- --¦-- -- --¦--¦ --¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦-- --¦- -- --¦- --¦- -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦.

--¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, -- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦- -- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦- -- --¦--'- --¦--, --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦-- -- --¦. --¦- --¦ -- - --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-.

-- --¦--¦. "You can open your eyes now," -- --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦ -- --¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦- -- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--.

"This… my heart's room? Other—" --¦-- --¦ --, --¦--¦--. "Don't tell me you brought us here for card games," -- --¦--¦- --¦- - --¦-- --¦- -- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦-.

"There's only one card I want," -- --¦- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-, "and I didn't want to send you downstairs to get it. Here!" --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦. --¦-- – --¦-- --¦--¦--¦- – --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--.

"We are never doing this again," -- --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--.

"I told you that you were the woman," -- --¦--¦ --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦--¦ - --¦-- --¦--¦.

--¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦ -- --¦--¦--¦. "Wait—"

"I have dominion over all games," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦--¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-. "I could've done this outside, but your deck—"

--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦-. "You pulled a lubricant out of Duel Monsters?!"

--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦- -- --¦-- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-. --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦--, --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-.

"… huh. I never would have made the connect—Ah!" --¦-- --¦- - --¦--, --¦--¦-, --¦ -- --¦--¦. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ (--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦-). --¦--¦- --¦, --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦ -- -- -- --¦-. "Nnnn,… other me…" --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦- -- --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--.

"Look at me, aibou," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦-- -- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- - --¦- --¦-. --¦--! --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--'- --¦-. -- --¦-- -- -- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦-, --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦- -- --¦--. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦ --¦-. "You said you wanted to see me climax," -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--.

--¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦- - --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦- --¦--¦-. --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦.

"Watch, aibou," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦--¦--, --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦-- (--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-), "watch as I bury you within me."

--¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦ -- --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦-, --¦-, --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦- -- --¦-- -- --¦ --¦, --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦-.

"Look, aibou," -- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦, -- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦, --¦- --¦-- --¦ -- --¦- -- --¦- --, "at what no one else can ever touch, no one else can ever know—" --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --, --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- --¦-- -- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦; --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦- - --¦-- -- --¦--¦. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦-- -- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦-; --¦-- --¦-- --¦, --¦--¦--¦ -- -- --¦-- -- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--, - --¦-- -- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦-.

"Let me— let me—" --¦-- --¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦- - --¦--¦--¦- --¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦. "Yes!" --¦-- --¦--, "show me—"

--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦-- --¦- --¦--¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- - --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --, --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--'- --¦--¦-- -- --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦-- (--¦- --¦--¦--, --¦- _--¦-_ --¦-) --¦ --¦- --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦. --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦- -- --¦--, --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦- -- -- --¦--, --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦-.

--¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦-, --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦-- --¦- -- --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦--¦--¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦-- --¦--. --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦, --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦--¦-.

"_Aibou_," --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦- -- --¦-- -- -- --¦--¦-, --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--¦. --¦--'- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦-, --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦-. "Ai-aibou." --¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦--¦, --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦, --¦--¦-- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦, --¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ -- --¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--¦-.

"Yes," --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦--'- --¦- -- --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦, "show me."

--¦--¦-- -- --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦-- --¦--¦, --¦-- --¦--¦ -- --¦- -- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦ --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦, --¦--, --¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--, --¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦ --¦ – --¦ --¦-- --¦ --¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦, --¦--¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--'- --¦- --¦-, --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦, --¦--¦ --¦, --¦--¦- --¦, --¦--¦ --¦--¦-- --¦--¦--¦- --¦—

"Ai--bou!"

-- --¦ --¦ --¦-- -- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦- --¦, --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦-, --¦-- -- --¦--, --¦ -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- -- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦-, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦--¦- --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦, --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- --¦--. -- --¦--¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦ --¦ --¦ --¦--¦-, --¦-- --¦--¦ --¦--¦- --¦--¦ --¦ --¦--¦-- --¦- -- -- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦- --¦-, --¦ --¦--¦ -- --¦--¦- --¦- --¦- --¦--¦-- --¦ --¦ --¦-- --¦ -- --¦-'- _--¦-_, --¦--¦-, --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦--. --¦-, -- --¦--¦ --¦- --¦- --¦--'- --¦--¦--¦ --¦--¦--, --¦ --¦-- --¦- --¦--, --¦-- --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦--.

"Aibou, aibou," -- --¦--¦--¦, - --¦--¦ -- --¦ -- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦--¦--, --¦- --¦ --¦- --¦ --¦--.

--¦--¦- --¦-- --¦--¦, -- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦--¦- -- --¦- --¦--¦ --¦-- --¦-- --¦ --¦- -- --¦--, --¦--¦--¦ --¦- --¦- -- --¦-- --¦-- --¦--¦'- --¦- --¦--¦- --¦ --¦--¦- --¦- -- --¦ --¦- --¦-- --¦- --¦ --¦--¦--¦-- -- --¦- --¦-- - --¦--¦- --¦-.

* * *

--

* * *

The nameless spirit of the Millennium Puzzle – a Pharaoh, if the book Yuugi had received from his grandmother was at least somewhat accurate – awoke slowly, drifting lazily from a land he would not refer to as the land of dreams (for, like many things, he had no memory of what dreams he might have dreamed). He was unaccustomed to sleeping, even less accustomed to waking, and as far back as his memory went (which, granted, was only a few months), he had not frequently woken up in a bed, arms wrapped around another person. Then again, the only time he'd ever awoken in a bed before had been in this fashion, and had been in Yuugi's arms after his apparent resealing within the Puzzle, bound by a false name. Yuugi had told him all of the rescue itself, but had not yet gone into the details of what else that transpired in his absence. It did not matter; they had time yet.

The spirit – the broken half-heart of a king, it seemed – stared upward, his hand drifting slowly across the naked arm of Yuugi, brushing through the dusting of blond hair, pondering. Since he had been unsealed (the first time, many months ago), he and Yuugi had only been separated twice: once by the strange magic wrought by Kaiba Seto that neither he nor Yuugi truly understood, and once by physical necessity. Yet, in all that time since the first unsealing, from when he protected Yuugi from the petty scum of Domino, to their initial and terribly triggered first interaction, through all that time spent playing games for useless money in Titan – even though they had always been together save those two occasions, the other Yuugi had never felt closer to Yuugi than he did now.

He knew – because Yuugi knew – that sex usually altered one's perceptions of one's partner (he shivered in delight at the word, how utterly perfect a word it was now), but there was no way that he could _not_ love Yuugi. Yuugi, still asleep beside him, was perhaps the most perfect person he'd ever met. Sure, he didn't have experience with many people, and with fewer still that weren't trying to hurt Yuugi, but… it was frightening, how balanced they were. Where the spirit was cold, and distant, unfeeling, Yuugi was anything _but_, and where Yuugi had been lacking in self-preservation and cunning the other Yuugi made up the difference. Yuugi said this was because he was only half a heart, too – something Yuugi had privately suspected, but had not known for sure until the man with the Balance of God had tried to weigh it during their separation.

How wonderful was it, then, that the Millennium Puzzle should be assembled by someone who was fragmented too? The other Yuugi (who was really quite different than Yuugi, beyond the superficial things) closed his eyes briefly, not bothering to hide the smile on his face even if it did hurt his cheeks to wear. He turned slightly to watch his Yuugi (and _no one else's!_) sleep. They were light and dark, in a sense, but not quite – he was not completely devoid of goodness, nor was Yuugi free from dark thoughts and deeds, but – he didn't know the right words.

If they needed words, he thought, Yuugi would know them, but he wasn't going to wake him for something like that. Not yet, anyway.

The spirit – who had, for a while, carried the name 'Saikoro,' but no longer – wanted to curl back into the peace of sleep, but something kept him awake. Somewhere important, something was greatly amiss. It was not here, with Yuugi, who slept more soundly than he had in ages (the spirit knew, he kept tabs on that sort of thing), but… somewhere.

The other Yuugi figured it was out in the real world, where Yuugi's body was probably lying asleep, mostly naked (everything except the Puzzle, which he'd looped around Yuugi's neck before they came here), in a sex-smelling bed. Perhaps Yuugi's mother, or grandfather (and the sudden grandmother about whom he still knew very little) had come home? The other Yuugi carefully untangled his limbs from his Yuugi (_his! _If Anzu or Kaiba or anyone else tried to take him away with false promises and callous words and insincere hearts, there would be _no end_ to their suffering!), watching fondly as Yuugi tried to pull him back. Very softly, he kissed Yuugi's brow, still tasting of cool sweat.

"Sleep, _aibou_," he murmured, unable still to cease smiling, "I will see to this unease. Sleep."

Yuugi shifted, one eye cracking open at him slowly, still mostly asleep. " 'kay," he muttered, burying himself under the covers and releasing his hold on the spirit. "Be fast. 'S cold without you."

The spirit laughed, smothering his face in Yuugi's hair playfully. "You won't even notice my absence," he swore, the words slightly muffled, finally pulling himself away and allowing his consciousness to reconnect with Yuugi's body.

His eyes still closed, the other Yuugi became aware of two things very quickly. The first was that he – Yuugi's body – was vertical. Although the other Yuugi was used to taking over a standing body, it was always because Yuugi had been awake before that moment. That an unconscious body was standing was not a good sign. The second he noticed came in multiple parts, none of which were good: he was wearing more than Yuugi had been when they'd gone into Yuugi's heart's room. There felt like loose boxers clinging to his hips in the familiar grip of elastic, and an unbuttoned dress shirt covered most of his arms and part of his torso, though it being unbuttoned seemed to defeat the purpose of wearing it in the first place.

There also seemed to be something wrapped around his legs, and what felt like metal bracelets tightly secured to his wrists and also to something else; the latter (handcuffs, he realized) was chaining him to something above his head, and was probably the cause of his standing. He was also blindfolded, which was why he could only guess as to his garments, his wrists hurt from holding his weight like this, and there was a bruise the size of Mt. Fuji on the back of his skull throbbing painfully.

These things in combination led him to the conclusion that he was not, in fact, in Yuugi's bedroom – he could not recall there being anything both high and sturdy enough to support handcuffs and his weight like this, as well as the fact he could think of no possible reason why he should wake up in such a fashion at the Game Shop.

The other Yuugi, hearing no one around him, seeing no lights filtering through his blindfold, did the only thing he could think to do: he quietly closed the barrier to Yuugi's mind, and with a very deep breath muttered, very loudly,

"Well, fuck."


	19. in which some situations are reversed

**Sight the King**  
19/21  
"in which some situations are reversed"

* * *

**_Their souls belong to him, and their shadows as well._**

* * *

Whatever it was that the handcuffs were attached to was too sturdy for the darker Yuugi to break, but he had been able to push the blindfold off of his eyes by rubbing the cloth against his arm. The room of his imprisonment was a not particularly detailed or telling location: the walls were a rather neutral gray, and the floor beneath his bare feet was the cold of wood. There was only a single door leading into the room, several feet away from where the other Yuugi was chained, and other than himself the only thing in the room was a small stockpile of damaged musical instruments. The handcuffs were looped through the eye of a bolt on the ceiling, but when the other Yuugi tried pulling it out the cuffs merely dug sharply into his already sore wrists.

He was momentarily surprised to notice that whoever had gone through all the trouble to clothe and kidnap him had not thought to take away the bloodstained Millennium Puzzle, but he was grateful for the oversight.

For now, it seemed that the only thing he could do was wait for someone to come in, at which point he could challenge him (or her, it didn't matter) to a Dark Game. He thought briefly about his promise to Yuugi, to refrain from the Games unless Yuugi approved, and he shook his head, frowning.

"I'm sorry, _aibou_," he whispered, closing his eyes. "I'm so, so sorry."

Yuugi would never know of this, he decided. He had been tormented for too long without respite because of the dark Yuugi's failings, and he would not allow Yuugi to be hurt and to fear for his safety within his own _home_. Again, again, _again_ he had failed, and he swore that when all this was over he would somehow reseal himself inside the Pyramid. What use was he when he could do nothing right?

There wasn't anything particularly intriguing to examine in the room, but all thoughts of exploration through shadow and spirit were banished instantly: leaving would pull Yuugi to the forefront, and Yuugi needed no more anxiety. For now, he could only wait. Conveniently, he did not have to wait long.

The sole door had opened, and the other Yuugi instantly recognized the man who crossed the threshold. His perfectly styled hair, his smooth jaw, that light dusting of make-up, his obscenely rich anachronism of an outfit: Sasori Tadashi, the father of the twin girls who had killed Jounouchi, had shot Yuugi, and overall _he_ who had tried to rig the world so unjustly against Yuugi's innocence. The dark Yuugi nearly trembled in rage, a snarl on his face. This man would _die_.

"Hn, you're awake," said Sasori, his voice still that perfectly balanced tenor that made the other Yuugi want to rip his throat out using only his hands. The door clicked shut behind him.

The other Yuugi did not ask him questions – why he was here, what was going on, why Sasori was doing this – for they were obvious and did not matter. The other Yuugi made sure the barrier between his heart and that of Yuugi's was shut tightly, so that his mercy would not seek to spare this man, too.

Sasori stood a few feet away now, but bound as he was, the other Yuugi could make no move against him.

"I'm surprised, I admit," said Sasori lowly, his voice balanced and perfect and emotionless, "that the killer of my children was such a small and fragile-looking boy—"Sasori's hand smashed into the other Yuugi's esophagus in a sudden choke hold upon him, and his coughs were ragged as the musician – a petty, stupid musician – continued, "—but that was simply an act to get an innocent verdict, wasn't it?"

The hand on his throat squeezed tighter, and the other Yuugi's eyes bugged open as he struggled to draw any air, any air at all into his lungs. He couldn't even gasp, and he knew this wouldn't be happening if they'd just left the damn choker on, wouldn't be happening if he'd been paying attention at the Game Shop, wouldn't be happening if he could just Dark Game the bastard, but could not if he couldn't even _speak!_ Spots were dancing in his eyes, and the other Yuugi's fingers twitched helplessly.

The pressure eased marginally, and the other Yuugi was able to choke down one shuddering gasp before he felt the perfectly curved, manicured nails dig into the flesh of his neck. Grimacing, the other Yuugi bared his teeth in a snarl, feeling more rage at this moment than ever in his life before; in response, Sasori's face contorted into a pained, angry thing, like Chono had – but this face was hiding a madman, and there was more at stake here than a puzzle and a name.

"There was _no one_ more precious to me than my daughters," Sasori raved, his free hand now clutching the blond streaks of Yuugi's hair. He gave a hard twist, sudden and painful, and the pressure eased on his neck just enough beforehand that the other Yuugi could not stop the pained gasp that escaped his throat. Sasori smirked at the sound, once more _squeezing_.

He couldn't breathe – the blood was pounding forcefully in his skull, and everything within him burned – but the hand was relaxing, making to pull away. No, no, it was just moving to squeeze again, and the other Yuugi couldn't get air into his lungs fast enough, couldn't get words out, couldn't do anything as he felt the hand clench against his throat once more. Not upon it, not choking, but _against_, and pulling away, but even as he realized what was happening the hand twisted in his hair again and the words were a pained cry.

The other Yuugi thrashed, desperate and crazed, but with his limbs bound he could not stop Sasori from forcing his head down, could not stop the man from tugging at the leather cord, could not stop him from taking the Puzzle from him, still stained after all this time with so much blood. He could still sense Yuugi's heart, of course – there had been occasions where even he had removed the Item to play a Dark Game – but he could not _feel_ it next to his own, could not call for Yuugi, even had he not put up the thick blockade between them. Panting, pained, even attempting to speak causing him to recoil in injury, he would not be able to stop the man from leaving with the key to his partner as he appeared to be doing now, backing away from the other Yuugi with the leather cord wrapped tightly around his hand.

_No!_ he chastised himself sternly, _you are not helpless! Just because he holds the Puzzle does not mean he wields it. You still have time!_ All he could do now was stall, and hope he got a brilliant idea soon.

"Weren't you at the trial?" he asked, the words difficult to say, quiet, and painful in his throat. "Your precious daughter killed her sister, and herself."

Sasori did not seem to hear him, but he'd stopped moving away (that was good, that was good, but the Puzzle was too far away for the other Yuugi to actually _use_ it, either), his full attention devoted to the Item. He trailed one manicured finger down the Pyramid's edge, and the other Yuugi was seething. How _dare_ he? _Aibou_ was in that Pyramid, and this filthy bard dared to touch him?

The other Yuugi felt the trickle of blood running down his arm from his chafed, cuffed wrists, but he ignored it, glaring at Sasori with unmatched depths of utter hatred. "Your children were monsters, just like you" the other Yuugi spat, struggling to keep himself from coughing, "and they deserved to die."

Sasori's fury was instant, and he was storming back to the captured Yuugi, and his smirk was small as it cut into his cheek. Just a little closer, and he could call the fatal words, but just as he opened his mouth he realized exactly what would happen, and he had only enough time to call upon the Item for his own protection before the Pyramid of God swung and collided with his skull. Involuntarily spitting blood, dazed and shaken, the other Yuugi was grateful that he'd been fast enough to prevent the Item from bludgeoning him to death in the single blow. He could not have stopped the Pyramid's sharp edge from cutting into Yuugi's face, nor the darkness and the spots and the _pain_ that surged from the moderately cushioned blow, but he was still alive.

He felt the blood roll down his face like sweat, and blearily he tried to focus his gaze on Sasori, who was now swinging the Puzzle, building momentum in the makeshift flail, and from the blur of the gold he knew he'd be lucky if the next blow merely sent him unconscious. He was mostly sure he'd survive the hit.

Sasori Tadashi let out a cry of anger, his perfect voice cracking, and the howling whistle of the Puzzle cut through the air jumbled in the other Yuugi's dazed thoughts, and all he could think was _miss, miss, miss,_ and he heard more than he saw the change in the trajectory of the spin, but something went wrong.

_Snap! _

His eyes darting open, the other Yuugi forced down his dizziness and stared in abject horror as the Puzzle was set flying, the torn leather cord trailing behind it like the tail of a star, and he could feel the scream down to his bones long before the fraction of a second between the Pyramid connecting with the solid, soundproof wall and the instant the Puzzle shattered, pieces of star-gold scattering from the place of impact.

All the other Yuugi could see was Yuugi, Yuugi, the closed bond between them vanishing between heartbeats, and all he could see was the blood running into his eyes, and all he could hear was his own scream as all the world around him seemed to fall into darkness.

* * *

--

* * *

Yuugi dreamed. It did not feel like a dream he had dreamed before, but the newness did not make it invalid. He was dreaming a memory, or part of a memory, though he saw nothing. He dreamed of voices, innumerable and limited, cold and lost and full of sorrow, as though their song were a lament or a hymn. Yuugi tried to focus on the words as he followed them through the dream, as few as there were, but they slipped through his ears like quicksilver, like the pattern to the perfect combination move, and Yuugi let the elusive words go.

According to his dream-memory (which was completely different than actual memory, of course: like in dreams where Yuugi knew he could fly, or what the secret names of playing cards happened to be), he had been told by his other self, the Pharaoh (a missing word echoed here, contained nothingness, repeating around him), to come here and wait for something.

Yuugi knew he was dreaming, for he had to walk down his pathway of memories, watching the story of his life etch itself onto the blank walls, to reach this darkness. All was darkness, and still those voices sang sweet words Yuugi could not hear. He knew that he was supposed to have something that would chase away the shadows here, but the weight of it was missing.

The voices were getting louder, their hollow words pounding against Yuugi, and he was not even able to walk straight for the sudden dizziness he felt. There was a cry, and dream-pain lanced through Yuugi as light slowly filtered into the room, or was the darkness filtering out? Yuugi could not help the anxiety that tore at him. The darkness had been comforting, and safe, and as the light revealed more of the room, the less well Yuugi felt.

This room was not meant to be seen, not by Yuugi, not like this. Yuugi did not want to see these guardian statues, did not want to see the golden sarcophagus that seemed to shift as he watched (it was supposed to be black, and the other Yuugi had been there, needing rescue), and he certainly didn't want to meet the bearers of the voices he'd followed through the labyrinth. There were only seven of them, but sometimes it was double that, and sometimes it escalated to fifty, or a hundred, and also no one at all.

One of them that was always there (except when he wasn't) smiled at Yuugi, breaking away from the others that faded into shadow or crumbled under his gaze.

"Hello," said the boy who sometimes was a statue, but mostly was just horribly disfigured with burns and cauterized flesh and would sparkle in the hateful light. "Are you supposed to be here?"

Even though Yuugi felt a great terror steal through him, he nodded. "I was told to come here," he remembered the Pharaoh pointing him to the darkness, smiling softly with a tone of reluctance; "to wait for something good."

The boy smiled with ashen teeth. "Did you now? That changes things." The boy who was not a boy approached Yuugi then, and though Yuugi wanted desperately to recoil, he smiled back.

One of the other people – a woman, a matron, who wasn't a person, and wasn't really there – smiled at him kindly in return. "You seem weary, child. Come. Give us your name."

"Yuugi," he said with a half-bow, surprised and frightened, terrified but smiling regardless, "Mutou Yuugi."

Even though he was dreaming, sudden fatigue fell upon his shoulders then and he staggered, but there were many, too many hands holding him upright then, cold and weak and crumbling under his weight. They began leading him forward, and he was grateful that they were being so thoughtful, but internally Yuugi raged, and screamed in terror. He was not meant to see this coffin, these people, was not meant to see the lid slide away, knew that what lay within that box was not meant for him. Yuugi had never felt more frightened of anything in his whole life than he was of this golden sarcophagus, surrounded as he was by souls who should not be here, but he smiled at them all.

The boy who was not actually there nodded at him, and all the hands fell away. Yuugi approached the sarcophagus without hesitation. The singers, the guards – all burned and mangled and cauterized flesh and lobs of gold – bowed to him as he approached the box, whispering words he didn't understand.

He was shaking and crying with fear. He was smiling, and climbing into the golden sarcophagus, laying down in the terrifying darkness.

As the statues, seven and one hundred and fourteen and no one at all began sliding the golden lid shut, Yuugi screamed in terror, thrashing, trying to free himself. Yuugi crossed his arms over his chest, right over left, and though he held no tools of God he felt them within his hands. The last of the scarred faces were lost to the sealing of the lid, and though he wore them not he felt the weight of binding gold upon him. Yuugi wept and shook in the darkness that was too full and too empty all the same, crying out to be released. He closed his eyes calmly.

After all, he was only dreaming.

* * *

--

* * *

The other, darker Yuugi – or, since there was no other, lighter Yuugi within him, was he the only Yuugi now? – hung limp from his shackles, his eyes unfocused. The Puzzle had been shattered, and in such a state he could not call upon the magic of the Dark Games. Without those Games, he had no means to escape. Without the Puzzle, he had no means to recede out of the forefront, had no means to speak with his partner, couldn't even _feel_ that bright and brilliant heart next to his own. The blood continued to trickle down his arms, down his face, and his body was chilled from the pathetic garments he wore, but what did it matter? Sasori would simply kill him, and melt the Puzzle, and there was nothing he could do.

Was there no end to his failings? He had wanted to seal himself back up into the Puzzle – but he could not even protect it long enough to do so. If he wept, he could not tell for the blood in his eyes.

Resigned so to his fate, the dark and lonesome Yuugi nearly missed the subtle chime, the quiet clinking of metal against metal.

His eyes refocused on the world around him, and an arrow of malicious hope stabbed his heart. Could he really have been so foolish as to—?

Looking up, the darker Yuugi felt his face curve up into a pained and terrible smile. He was! Against all logic and reason, Sasori Tadashi was trying to reassemble the bloodstained Pyramid of God. The solitary Yuugi could not directly control a Dark Game, but he could—

"Don't even bother trying to solve it," the dark, malicious Yuugi sneered at Sasori's back, letting his weight fall entirely on the cuffs so he could rock from side to side like a pendulum. "It's impossible. You may as well give up."

When Sasori turned, his expression was nearly dazed, and the dark Yuugi grinned, his lips cutting into his cheek and his whole expression sharp like a knife.

"It's not hard," Sasori argued, his hands possessive over the gold; "all the blood is on the surface."

The dark Yuugi hummed, closing his eyes. "I bet you won't even get three pieces to stick," he murmured, goading. Sasori laughed, and the dark Yuugi merely hummed a little brighter.

"I bet I'll have ten in five minutes."

The dark Yuugi just smiled, relaxing. "All right." Although the dark Yuugi could not control the Dark Games without the assembled Pyramid, the Millennium Puzzle itself was a Dark Game, and attempting to solve it constituted one all the same. That Sasori had set a willing limit was only setting himself up for failure. He would never be able to solve the Puzzle, not in a thousand, thousand years. Perhaps, of the forty-nine pieces, Sasori might connect those ten, but only those: the Pyramid, like his heart, would remain desolate.

To expect him to connect even three pieces in a year was beyond his skill. To expect him to do it in five minutes was laughable. To expect him to connect those ten in those five minutes was suicide. That was the curse of the Puzzle, it seemed: anyone who came into contact with those shattered pieces lost all sense of reason in the desire to solve it, and only one had, or could ever, overcome such trials.

The dark Yuugi, still bound and bleeding, merely watched as Sasori became further enamored and frustrated by the gold, watched the way his fingers would hesitate and stray too long on pieces that would never fit together. He smirked, that dark and cutting expression Yuugi could never wear.

Sasori was not thinking any more – merely sliding his skin across the gold, falling under the darkness of its beauty and violence and material worth. The dark Yuugi waited, smiling, even as his heart lay breaking in his chest, the steel of his grin trying to solder the organ back together.

Four minutes.

* * *

--

* * *

A heartbeat in darkness. Two. A dozen. Seventeen. Three hundred. A billion.

Seven. Eight.

The darkness stretched for eons, but snapped in only a moment.

His eyes had not even gotten fully adjusted; when the lid slid open once more, his eyes did not water in the brightness.

"Who dares," asked a voice that may have been his own, "to cut into the holy dark of slumber?" His council surrounding his sarcophagus, all seven of them, their collective countenance that of retribution. He tightened his grip on the crook in his hand. "Speak!"

"A foul and greedy heart attempts to trespass upon the holy heart of you, great star," said his most trusted councilor, a man with eyes as cold and as dark as the middle-night waters, but if he stared too long those eyes seemed to also be gold. The man had a name – they all did, of course – but he dared not recall them.

"He trespasses, great star," said another, a dear and respected female voice, and he closed his eyes. "He must face the holy judgment of God."

He nodded, rising to his feet, allowing them to guide him from his resting place. The hands that braced his weight were cold and solid to the touch, even as they crumbled away like sand.

"The Pyramid is scattered, and shall remain so for eternity," said a voice that may have been his own, "but my judgment is swift, and just. Come! Only through unity can this criminal face his consequence – lend to me the door from this chamber, that I may remove the threat to this most sacred sanctuary."

His six council – no, seven, there were seven here – gathered around him, prostrated before him, and the glitter of gold in their skin grew brighter in the well-lit chamber. Briefly his gaze lingered upon the walls' murals, those accounts of his mortal life beneath the blessing sun. He remembered those days well, even if he thought not of the words or names now. He knew his own, that knowledge which no one else could claim, and it was enough.

He closed his eyes against the story and the shine of the gold around him, and he allowed himself to be pushed towards that trespasser against his ordained rest.

He would face the consequence of awakening God.


	20. in which several moves are made

**Sight the King**  
20/21  
"in which several moves are made"

* * *

**_In his pyramid among those who live of the earth of Egypt,_**

* * *

"You lose," whispered the dark Yuugi, his grin broad and unwavering as the mere two pieces Sasori connected fell apart once more. He was shaking now with an excitement that was not benevolent: in a few moments now, the Dark Game would penalize Sasori for losing a game he himself initialized, would seize Sasori's mind and destroy it completely. The dark Yuugi did not know how he planned on escaping after the Dark Game ended, but it didn't matter yet.

There! The dark Yuugi saw it then in those mundane eyes, the sudden refocusing upon some unholy terror. He nearly gnashed his teeth in his desire to watch, never before having been so glad for another's failings; usually he could see what horrors would be visited upon those who failed the Dark Games.

He was angered, then, when he realized that Sasori was facing his demons, and the dark Yuugi could not see them. Sasori had, in his panic, snatched pieces of the Puzzle and held them tight against his chest.

"No! Please," he begged, shaking his head, his eyes seemingly unfocused, "they're mine!" As the dark Yuugi watched, Sasori shook upon the ground, tears rolling down his face, dark and staining from his makeup. Oh, what terrifying truth was he witnessing! The dark Yuugi strained forward against the cuffs, the cold air of night chilling the sticky blood on his arms and torso. There! The dark Yuugi squinted, catching a glimpse of a semi-transparent… person? What—? The terror in Sasori's eyes had completely vanished! Could he really have been so strong as to break the consequence of the Dark Game in such a short amount of time? The dark Yuugi squinted – yes! – and he again saw the flicker of the phantom retribution of the Puzzle, a man with dark hair stuck up like—

The dark Yuugi let out a gasp of pain as if kicked. "_Aibou?_" he whispered, no longer caring what would happen to Sasori, not when Yuugi was—

"Yes," whispered Sasori, staring up at the space where he must be able to see Yuugi more clearly than the darker Yuugi could. What could his Yuugi possibly be saying to this scum? The darker Yuugi strained further against the cuffs as much as he could, the metal stinging into open cuts, desperately trying to hear the phantom Yuugi's voice, but it was just as insubstantial and inconstant as his physical appearance.

It was only because the thing at which the dark Yuugi was staring so intently wasn't there that he was could witness what happened next. Sasori's eyes were still watering with tears, and the two Puzzle pieces fell to the floor with a loud clatter. "Please," he whispered, his voice trembling as he fell forward onto his hands and knees. "Please." Sasori's expression melted into one of unrestrained joy.

_WHAT?!_ exclaimed the dark Yuugi within the confines of his desolate and empty heart, _he is to suffer for eternity for what he's done to aibou! Dammit all! _

Sasori's joyful grin and his eyes full of worship did not falter, even as he tumbled over sideways, and from there he did not move again. Unconscious, or dead, the dark Yuugi couldn't tell and he rattled the cuffs and his raw wrists with renewed fervor. This wasn't how the Puzzle was supposed to work – it was not meant to allow the mercy of death, unless the weak soul brought it physically upon itself!

Again, the phantom flickered into visibility, and he could not subdue the scream of "_Aibou!_" from escaping his sore and battered throat. The phantom flickered again, and continued to do so, but the dark Yuugi could see the form more often than he could not.

"Yuugi? You…"

The phantom shook his head, and the dark Yuugi heard – imagined? – the subtle chime of clinking metal.

"The God Puzzle. You wish to solve it once more," said the phantom Yuugi, but he… he didn't really look like Yuugi, nor spoke like him. The dark Yuugi quickly took in the flickering details of this form, the differences so pronounced. The phantom Yuugi appeared clothed in great swatches of fabric – wraps and mantles, colors muted in their lack of opacity. His face, there was something different there, too, wasn't there? If only that visage would stay constant, the dark Yuugi thought, then he'd be able to tell!

"Do not… not again," said the phantom, and with a dismissive gesture with some sort of a cane in the dark Yuugi's direction, he flickered out once more, for good.

The cuffs disintegrated, and the darker Yuugi fell to his bound knees, banging and toppling mercilessly. The sleeves of his shirt stuck to the blood on his arms and wrists, and if he cared to think about it, the dark Yuugi might have felt worried or glad that the shirt was trapping the blood from splattering on the floor, and that the cuffs themselves had entirely ceased to exist. The dark Yuugi shakily untied the bindings on his bare legs, and he trembled as he stood once more. Staggering, he made his way to Sasori Tadashi, still sprawled across the floor, and the darker Yuugi easily confirmed the man's newly acquired career as a professional corpse.

The darker Yuugi's eyes darted to the scattered pieces of gold. What had that phantom Yuugi meant, 'not again'? The dark Yuugi, after all, was not he who solved it before. He hissed through his teeth in frustration as he carefully gathered the pieces. After a minute or so, he had collected all forty-nine shards of the Puzzle, and after another moment of searching, went to the stockpile of musical instruments. Grabbing one of the small drums (a dingo? a bungle? He had no idea what it was called), he deposited each individual piece into the hollow interior of the drum, carefully counting the number again. Forty-nine.

With a shaking nod, the dark Yuugi carefully made his way out of the room, out of the building's labyrinth of empty hallways, and onto the streets of Domino. He did not know where he was – hell, he wasn't even sure if he was still in Domino – so he ran several abandoned dark city blocks until he found a still-open restaurant, another _Meat Goes In Your Face Deliciously!_ In other circumstances, he might have been amused.

The girl working the register was a skinny, slightly masculine woman with blue hair, a bandaged and broken nose, and the eyes of the weary or the intoxicated. The dark Yuugi did not care that he looked ridiculous, a teenager with spiked up hair wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a blood soaked, open dress shirt, and carrying a broken drum. He merely pointed at the girl and snarled, "Interfere and I will destroy you."

The girl merely stared at him, confused, as the dark Yuugi stormed to the unoccupied back bathroom of the restaurant, locking the door firmly behind him. Uncaring for the environment, he sat upon the cold, tiled floor, setting the drum down before him. Tearing open the skin of the drum with steady hands, he poured out the pieces of the Millennium Puzzle upon the floor, and sorted them quickly into seven rows of seven. Forty-nine. Good.

It had taken Yuugi eight years to solve the Puzzle for many reasons: he did not, to start, have much skill in three-dimensional puzzle-building; he did not know the final shape of the object; he did not spend too much time working on it due to frustration and parent-enforced time limits; there were other things more important to worry about than an unsolvable puzzle. The darker Yuugi did not have these same handicaps: he knew precisely the shape of the complete Puzzle, and where every single piece would fall, and the most important and most precious existence was currently sealed from him by the pieces' disunity. Even with all this knowledge as to the Puzzle's construction, he did not know how much time it would take to complete it. Hours? Days? The dark Yuugi shuddered.

"How long was I locked away," he asked quietly, staring at the pieces, "before I forgot everything? Centuries? Minutes?" And Yuugi had looked and acted so different; there had been almost no recognition in his eyes. None of the love and adoration the dark Yuugi had seen during the afterglow before the kidnapping – hell, there hadn't even been the familiarity of a friend in those eyes. He was… he hadn't even said 'other me,' but 'Yuugi.' _Never_ had Yuugi referred to the darker Yuugi that way. The Puzzle was somehow changing Yuugi's precious heart, and the dark Yuugi clenched his eyes tightly shut. His hands fell to the pieces.

* * *

--

* * *

The council was awaiting his return in the chamber of rest. The eldest of them, like the rest, bowed reverently at his entrance but was the only one who openly scowled upon rising.

"Great tower, why did you not punish the criminal that defiled your rest?" The others of the council seemed to pay the question no heed as they escorted him back to his cherished sarcophagus, but still he answered.

"He suffered from grief. His pain was his drive. He will disturb my rest no longer, and he no longer suffers. Is it not cruel to punish those who first punish their own hearts?"

"Your mercy is too swift, blessed one," murmured his council, laying him down once more into the sarcophagus. Why had he so feared this place and these people before? He was only meant to cast judgment upon trespassers, and to sleep in the darkness of this tomb, nothing more. He let his eyes fall closed once again as he heard his trusted council close the lid above him. Before drifting off, his thoughts turned to the imprisoned and bloodied man with the trespasser.

He had seen traces of the Pyramid's glow upon him; he, therefore, must have been the one who had assembled it last. The man had a name, of course – everyone did, but he dared not recall it again. He knew his own, and that was enough.

* * *

--

* * *

The pieces of the Puzzle were not all that terribly cold under his fingers, but the darker Yuugi was chilled regardless. The chaffed cuts on his wrists had stopped bleeding some time before, and the blood was irritatingly dried upon his arms, his every movement pulling a tiny, painful bit on his skin. His legs were numb, and cold, and the few garments he wore were completely pointless in protecting him against the cold of the bathroom tiles, or the circulating unheated air. But, when he shivered, he knew it had nothing to do with the external temperature.

For the first time he could ever recall, the other Yuugi was terrified. He had been worried for his partner before, true, and sometimes the Dark Games were a bit too evenly matched for his comfort, but never had he felt such a paralyzing fear seize him to the bones, never felt so frightened of failing before now. What if he couldn't solve the Puzzle? What if it ensnared his mind and confused him, making him forget all of his promises to Yuugi, or consider them useless? What if, what if, what if; so many things could go wrong, so many _had_ already, and wasn't it always his fault? He couldn't recall the last time he'd done something for Yuugi and have it go right, and didn't that just bode terribly against him?

Minutes passed, and his limbs trembled under the cold of the room and the depth of his terror and despair, and with a cry he slapped one hand over one of the numerous shards of Puzzle. If he could not force himself to complete this task due to his fear of failure, then he had to make _not_ solving it be worse.

Closing his eyes, he recalled several important things: the darker Yuugi was the King of Games. All games were under his dominion, most especially the Dark Games. Of them, the Millennium Puzzle was the greatest Dark Game of all.

"I challenge you," he whispered, rage and terror and so much sorrow wracking his voice, "to a Game."

If he could shatter a chess set, in spirit form, without even touching the pieces, then surely he could set up a Game against an inanimate object. He – well, he and Yuugi – had played Dark Games without opponents before, like that night of their first incarceration. Calling a game against the Puzzle would mean that, on its turn, the pieces would move of their own volition. Before he could lose what little nerve he had left, he sputtered out the conditions and the rules of the game – each turn would last fifteen seconds, wherein they would try to connect as many pieces as possible, and the winner would be the one to connect the last piece. If the darker Yuugi won, he would reclaim ownership of the Pyramid of God, but if he lost his penalty would be death.

The darker Yuugi snatched up two, three pieces of the Puzzle, clicking them together before his moment of courage failed. _Snap out of it!_ he censured himself harshly, clenching his eyes shut. _You cannot possibly hope to win if you're terrified! Only aibou matters._

At the sound of additional pieces clicking into place, the dark Yuugi opened his eyes and was shocked to see a set of hands easily taking up more of the gold, and shocked further still when he saw his opponent. The phantom Yuugi returned the core chunk of Puzzle back to the tile floor between them, his eyes closed.

The darker Yuugi absently slipped a single piece into place, his full attention locked upon the other. The phantom Yuugi picked up four more pieces and slid them into place, not once opening his eyes, nor did he make any movement to indicate a different type of sight. The darker Yuugi slotted in the thirteenth, the eighteenth, the twenty-first pieces, easily and silently, but did neither as well as the phantom Yuugi did, his eyes closed and head bent as if sleeping, connecting the fifteenth, the twentieth, the twenty-third pieces.

Still the phantom Yuugi was dressed in great swatches of fabric, mantles layered upon his shoulders, and a thousand river-blue beads wrapped around his neck, interspersed with ones of gold, and gold bangles on his arms, and some sort of gold headband, or a tiara, or a circlet on his brow. A crown! The phantom Yuugi wore a crown beneath his translucent bleached-blond hair, it adorned with a snake and an eye similar to that on the God Pyramid but unfamiliar in this context. As he connected the twenty-eighth piece, the dark Yuugi wondered what terrible curse was afflicting Yuugi, why he played the Dark Game in the first place, why in such a state of almost sleeping.

"_Aibou?_ What's happened to you?" There was no answer as the sleeping phantom Yuugi simply inserted another Puzzle piece, the number placed per turn dwindling with the amount of pieces remaining on the floor.

"Are you awake? Can you hear me?" No response, and the darker Yuugi nearly missed his turn, but hastily slid in a single piece to prevent his forfeit. He tried to reach out to his partner, but his hand merely passed through the other, and the spirit did not react to any of his words, no matter how desperate.

"I'm so sorry, _aibou_. So, so sorry…" he whispered finally, gazing down. There were only four pieces of the Puzzle left between them, and the dark Yuugi's heart chilled over. Yuugi had been setting nearly six pieces every turn. The Game would end.

The phantom Yuugi easily picked up the forty-sixth piece and slid it into place, and the forty-seventh. On the forty-eighth, the phantom Yuugi did something unexpected. He hesitated.

"I asked you to not do this thing," whispered a voice the dark Yuugi almost didn't recognize. The sheer emptiness of the tone – it held no familiarity, no emotion, just a request from a dignified stranger – stabbed a dagger of ice through him clean to the core. "Please. Do not do this."

The phantom Yuugi flickered as he slid in his piece, and at the snapping _click!_ he vanished completely. The dark Yuugi's sudden and outstretched hand passed only through air, not even the echo of touch indicating the second presence on the cold tile floor. With shaking fingers, he retrieved the final piece from the floor, the ring of gold sliding easily over his fingers, even with the ripped leather cord trailing from it still.

His thoughts were a jumbled and torn mess, like so many strings knotted together, their cuts and damage hidden in the fray. He did not want to… to disregard a request from Yuugi, especially one as clear and as forceful as _don't_, but… something had happened to Yuugi, something terrible had befallen him, and the dark Yuugi could not – would not! – break the oaths he had sworn.

"I am your shadow," he whispered, sliding the final piece into place, slotting it with a resounding _click!_ through the tiled room, "and I _will_ protect you."

* * *

--

* * *

Without hesitation, the dark Yuugi plunged himself into the inner chamber of Yuugi's heart's room, following that already familiar path they had traveled only… only that day? The day before? The dark Yuugi followed, his eyes clenched shut, and though it took concentration almost no time passed between the moment he slipped in the final piece of the Puzzle and when his body slumped limp, protective over the gold, his mind no longer connected to that outside world. Holding tight to the Puzzle, the dark Yuugi opened his eyes in what he aimed to be Yuugi's heart's room.

It was.

It was all wrong.

The room still contained all the same dimensions and objects, but it was all wrong. The bed was against the wrong wall, the toys that had been scattered on the floor were now organized in little stacks around the room, the lights were muted, and it was all wrong. And yet… it felt right, somehow, this way. It felt more welcoming to the dark Yuugi, and everything was where he thought it should go.

His hand tightened on the leather cord of the Puzzle. The room was organized in a way that felt natural to the dark Yuugi, true, but it was not the way _Yuugi_ would have done it, and this realization frightened him.

Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts, the dark Yuugi wrapped the cord of the Puzzle more tightly around his hand and a bit on his raw but healing wrist. At his touch, the door swung into the room easily, and this gave him a small measure of comfort: this way, if necessary, he could barricade the door against intruders. But hadn't Yuugi said the door swung _out?_ The dark Yuugi shook his head once more, walking out of the room and pulling the door shut behind him.

_"The place outside the room is frighteningly dark,"_ said Yuugi, recounting the place with closed eyes and hushed tones at Kaiba's mansion weeks before. _"At first I could see the opposite wall, but as I walked everything became dark, and cold, and to find you…"_

The place outside the room was very, very well-lit, and it was worrisome. To his right was a dead end, so the dark Yuugi turned left down the long, obscenely illuminated hallway. He did not know why this place was so different for him than it was for Yuugi – was it the explorer who changed the maze, or the way the Puzzle had been solved? The Pyramid knocked against his leg as he walked, but he did not try to mend the cord to replace the Item around his neck; holding onto the cord of a familiar object comforted him.

At the end of the hallway was an open and spacious atrium, and even as well lit as it was, the dark Yuugi could not see the height of the ceiling, or determine accurately the length of the cavernous chamber. All along the walls were strange and repetitive markings, and though the dark Yuugi did not know if it was even meant to be language or art it sent a chill through his not-body. Across the expansive atrium was a solitary door, emblazoned upon which was a solitary eye, open and staring like the eye upon Yuugi's crown, and on the God Pyramid.

Realizing there was nowhere else to go, the dark Yuugi clenched in determination; Yuugi must be somewhere beyond that door. Without hesitation he ran, ignoring the pain in his bare feet against the coarse stone, his sense of disquiet building into mild terror, and there was a loud _CRACK!_ Sudden and deafening in the silence, the noise startled him, knocking him off-balance. With a cry he tumbled forward, landing heavily on the rough stone floor, skinning his arms and knees in a quick burning skid. He was momentarily grateful that the Puzzle was around his hand and not his neck, for the impact might otherwise have broken one of his ribs. Pushing himself up, he looked for the source of the noise, and his eyes widened in dismay.

Had he not been running, and had he not fallen forward, the large and dark pit that had opened up behind him would have consumed him. Peering over the ledge, the dark Yuugi saw several shining, curved hooks pointing towards the imperceptible ceiling, and in his solitude the dark Yuugi's body quaked. Just a moment longer on that patch of stone and he would have fallen, and every second of his descent would have painfully ripped the flesh from his body until he was caught to die, feeling each ounce of blood leak from his numerous and violent injuries. He did not doubt that he could die in this place – and what would happen to Yuugi if he did? Trapped in the Puzzle with no one the wiser, and his body out there would… would it simply sleep, or would it die altogether?

Although it was his haste that had saved him from the fall, the dark Yuugi felt sickened. In his thoughtless attempt at rescue, he'd almost killed them both.

"_Aibou_," he whispered, ignoring the tears in his eyes, his fist clenching still the cord of the Puzzle, holding still to the God-forsaken Pyramid. He raised his arm sharply, glaring at the Item in fury. "I do not understand you," he growled to the Puzzle as it swung from his wrist, digging painfully into the already chaffed ring of skin, "how you can be here, within yourself. I do not understand how you can seal me from _aibou_, or _aibou_ from me—"

He was shouting now, his tears ignored even as they rolled down his cheeks in slow and heavy drops, "—but I swear upon the forgotten names of the ancient gods that if you do not lead me to him I will _destroy_ you in such a fashion that all the world will feel pity for the pain you will suffer, for the wrath you have incurred!"

The flash of light was intense, and considering its position and proximity from the dark Yuugi's face it was also painful, and blinding. He cried out and jerked backwards, but since he had not been standing he did not fall. Blinking away the salt and the stars in his eyes, the dark Yuugi snarled and made to smash the bloodied Puzzle against the equal dark stains on the stone, curved and textured like a kidney. The dark Yuugi halted instantly. He, very slowly, placed his left hand over the mark, the curves of his palm matching perfectly with the dried curve of blood.

He had Yuugi's hands, after all.

Turning his attention to the floor all around him, the dark Yuugi saw countless similar blood prints, though they made no distinct pattern. He saw prints cut in half, or only the bloody circle of a knee and a hand of one side of the body and not the other. Yuugi had crawled through the darkness, and left his own trail for the dark Yuugi to follow. With a hiccup, he bowed his head.

"So much suffering," he whispered, wrapping the cord around his hand another time, "so much you suffer… for me. I refuse to… to…" With a calming breath the dark Yuugi stood, analyzing the floor. He had to assume that any place Yuugi had not traveled was a trap, another pit of failure; this was a maze without walls. Carefully he traced pathways to that solitary door, the floor like a game board now. Yes, that was the way; he started blocking off the floor with spaces in his mind, and knew he would not be able to jump over an entire square, but to a diagonal?

He was grateful to the bright lighting that Yuugi had lacked in his own journey, for the dark Yuugi could see the spots of blood even near the door. From there he started tracing the winding and jerking path back to his own feet, following it back and forth again to be sure. With a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and the shaking feeling of sorrow that he was following a trail of Yuugi's blood, the dark Yuugi began his morbid game of hopscotch.

* * *

--

* * *

The sarcophagus was dark, and still he could not sleep. After that strange half-dream, he could not rest for the noise. The sound, the sound, it should not reach him here. Was his sarcophagus still open? Or had— No! He had _warned_ the man against this, why had he not _listened?_ Was he too enamored of the power to see the suffering that would befall him? Not again, not again! If he— he had! The fool, trespassing! He had to go – he had to stop him; he could enter this chamber, no, no, he could not! He tried to push at the lid, but the moment his hands touched that lightless surface, wave after wave of fatigue assailed his limbs, and his mind.

"No, please," he did not whisper as sleep finally came to seize him, "he must be stopped! Before…"

* * *

--

* * *

The door swung open under his touch, and the dark Yuugi would have dropped the Puzzle had it not been wound around his wrist. That Yuugi had not seen this place was a mercy. Excluding the mind-numbing number of doors, and staircases, and pits, and hallways, this inner chamber that made no sense in architectural structure was covered in dark murals filled with blood. Everywhere, everywhere the dark Yuugi looked was another image, another story of death, of anguish, of carnage and so much war, so, so much suffering. Fire, swords, beasts of the land, people killing one another with their bare hands, blood staining their flesh and the ground soaked through with it.

The Dark Games, he knew, were a terrible punishment, but not like this. No, not like this.

Oddly, the blood prints here seemed to multiply, leading to every door, up every staircase. From sight alone he could not determine the true path, and when he tried to reach Yuugi through those familiar channels of communication he still received no answer. Closing his eyes, the dark Yuugi inhaled sharply and deeply.

"Guide me," he whispered, his fingers white in the tightness of his grip, "as you have guided _aibou_. _Please. _"

At that, the Puzzle began glowing a muted yellow-orange-red, as though the sun were a scarab trapped in amber but still dirty with blood, and of its own volition began swinging like a pendulum from his arm, forward and back, painfully rubbing his wrist. The dark Yuugi lifted the Pyramid, the beam emitting from its eye was as pure as sunlight, and with cautious steps he moved forward, placing his feet firmly upon the irradiated trail. Each of his bare footsteps landed on a small stain of blood, and each left a new one behind. The path was long, and winding, but even on sharp turns the Pyramid's light remained constant upon the trail of blood, and the dark Yuugi had to very consciously _not_ think about just how _much_ Yuugi had left behind or how much he was adding to it with his feet cut and torn upon the unforgiving stone.

When the trail stopped over an open pit filled with a dark and undulating ocean, the dark Yuugi did pause, even though the Puzzle was tugging fiercely at his arm in the force of its motion. Struggling to keep his balance, the dark Yuugi yanked his arm back as the Pyramid swung forward, and at the sudden release of force he stumbled backwards.

While the Puzzle, having ripped clean through the leather cord, continued sailing forward over the dark waters. _Not again! _He thought as he surged forward, but the Puzzle was long out of his reach when he halted at the edge of the pit, swaying forward dangerously, and he also thought _why didn't we think to put it on something stronger?_ His heart crumbling in despair, the dark Yuugi watched his only guide in this realm fall, fall into that dark and angry sea.

Until it stopped.

The Pyramid skidded forward, and to a stop, as though it had encountered solid ground and was not at all suspended with no support over empty air and raging waters. Tentative and confused, the dark Yuugi went to his knees and placed his hand over the opening of the pit and, his breath held fast behind his clenched teeth, he pressed down. His hand did not meet solid ground, like the stone upon which he knelt that dug painfully into his bloodied knees, but there was resistance enough to prevent his hand from descending further. It was like a sealed bag of air, but not feeling the bag itself.

Quavering in his nervous exhalation, the dark Yuugi began with aching hesitation to crawl across the solid air to the stationary, still glowing Pyramid. A long and terrifying minute later the dark Yuugi reached the Puzzle, and after another minute of crawling with two of his fingers jammed into the ring, the dark Yuugi reached the opposite ledge, and once upon solid ground he quaked, and shuddered under waves of compressed panic, shaking for fear of this terrible, terrible place.

How had _aibou_ faced these same trials so easily?

Not remembering his second imprisonment within the Puzzle (or his first, at that), the dark Yuugi had been grateful that Yuugi had gone to such lengths to retrieve him, but to see, to _know_ such trials! To crawl to the point of bleeding, to have so much faith as to walk on air, and all this in such a sinister place, not even knowing for sure that the journey would not destroy him, not knowing!

With his grip tight on the Pyramid, the dark Yuugi continued on, gritting his teeth even as he crawled under swinging pendulum blades, over the piercing pain of fire and ice, and with each trial his heart was trembling in awe, and fear, and so much remorse. He had not – could not have! – appreciated the lengths to which Yuugi had gone for him, but why, _why_ had he done so? The dark Yuugi had done nothing to deserve such loyalty, had done nothing to earn such devotion, so why?

_"There is nothing and no one more precious to me than you," _whispered Yuugi in their afterglow, and only moments later calling the dark Yuugi foolish for saying he felt the same.

Now he knew better: nothing and no one could _ever_ be as precious as Yuugi, and he would prove it no matter the cost. With his heart afire with fierce resolution, he pressed on.


	21. in which a game ends

**Sight the King**  
21/21  
"in which a game ends"

* * *

Days passed, or weeks, or maybe it was merely endless hours, but after many trials that now only strengthened his conviction, the dark Yuugi had come to the final room, the final place in the Puzzle, the only place that Yuugi could remain. The darker Yuugi had walked into the room cautiously, as he had every leg of the journey save the first, and even as he slowly made his way, his eyes darted from wall to wall, taking in the details.

The dark Yuugi found himself in yet another well-lit chamber, though its low ceiling was oppressively dark. Each of the four walls were covered in murals similar to those he had seen in that first chamber past the eye-bearing door, and though he did not understand the meanings of each symbol or the images they surrounded, he understood the general story: it was, after all, a story he'd already heard from Yuugi. Speaking of whom, Yuugi was nowhere to be seen.

If the Millennium Puzzle had been made of solid gold and not imbued with magic, the handle would have warped in the strength of his grip. This was the place – this had to be the place! Unless the Puzzle had purposefully misled him, which did not make sense – why would he be guided so faithfully through so many traps only to encounter a dead end? There was even the pedestal to which Yuugi claimed the darker Yuugi had been chained, though in the light it did not really look like a pedestal or a platform at all.

The darker Yuugi drew closer, curious. It didn't look particularly large, and the golden network on the thing was intricate and minuscule, though there was a thick, black line cutting through the artistry an inch or so from the top. His eyes widened; it wasn't a platform at all. It was a box. A very large box. He could see why its size had confused Yuugi, for even as he stared at the thing, it seemed to mutate under his gaze.

He reached out to it, curious and not knowing why, but within himself he felt a great swelling of calm victory. That which he had been looking for, even before, even before… that which lay in this box seemed to call to him, and he placed his hands firmly against the side of the lid. He shoved upwards to pry it open, but he himself was shoved aside forcefully when he tried, and he stumbled in the attempt to remain standing.

Out of seemingly nowhere, the box was surrounded by several… statues? Furrowing his brow and adjusting his left-handed grip on the Puzzle, the dark Yuugi approached the box once more, and was able to dodge this time when one of the statues made to punch him in the chest.

A different statue spoke. "Leave this place," she said, though her lips did not move, "this realm is yours no longer."

The dark Yuugi scowled. "I was sealed in this place for thousands of years," he replied, trying to find a gap in the perimeter of figures through which he could slip to open the box, "and reassembled the Puzzle itself."

"Leave this place," said another statue, and another, and as one their arms extended out from their sides and overlapped one another, a net of limbs made of stone and bone and ash. "Leave this sacred place. This is the Pharaoh's chosen tomb, and you are not welcome here."

As one, the line of statues walked towards him, a linked wall of ash and blood trying to force him out, but the dark Yuugi did not back down even in his confusion. He knew that _he_ himself was the Pharaoh, so that would make this his own resting place—

Yuugi had been wearing a crown.

The memory, the image was sudden, revealing, and the dark Yuugi ducked under the crossed arms of two of the statues, rolling past the guard, and he stood before the box that was really an oversized sarcophagus. His hands did not shake, and he shoved forcefully at the lid, even as the statues tried pulling him away. He only cracked the seal open by a couple inches before he was dragged from the coffin, and he struggled desperately against them, bashing the statues with his elbows and feet and several he bludgeoned away with the Puzzle itself.

The dark Yuugi had no experience or training with physical combat, but in his frenzy he was not strong or fast enough to take out seven enemies, even if he had not been so exhaustingly injured prior. He knew this, but with a ragged shout he swung the Puzzle again, and again, struggling to remain free and on his own two feet. He did not pause, even as some of his attackers went to their knees in injury, did not pause in the deafening screech of stone against stone as they continued to strike at him, pushing him further away from the sarcophagus, and screaming he swung again.

"_STOP!_"

The dark Yuugi froze mid-swing, his heart, his lungs, his mind, every part of him halting under the command of that voice. He heard the grind of stone against stone once more, and slowly his gaze turned back to the sarcophagus. From those dark confines, a ringed hand had emerged and was now sliding the lid open further.

Several, but not all, of the statues stood and moved to the sarcophagus, but still the dark Yuugi could not move, so great was his shock. A man stood from the coffin, decked in large swatches of brilliant fabric, deep river's blue and the angry red of an evening sun, and gold, gold, so much gold around his arms, and his neck, and his brow. The man did not look into the faces of the statues as they guided him out of the sarcophagus, and the dark Yuugi was stricken by the complete picture the other made, everything about him brilliant and perfect.

It was Yuugi.

It was not Yuugi.

The man gave a terse nod and a quiet sound of gratitude, but his gaze was steel and fixed solely on the dark Yuugi, and in the other's approach the dark Yuugi heard the soft _thwaps_ of the man's shoes against the rough stone floor and the clatter of beads. The man did not come forward much from the box, only a few steps so as to stand in front of the statues, and the dark Yuugi's mouth was dry and empty of words.

"You dare to defile this place?" asked the man, and the dark Yuugi crumbled under the sound. It was Yuugi, it was Yuugi's voice, but it was so very _wrong_. The voice was so confident, so proud, so commanding that the dark Yuugi's bloodied knees shook; even when Yuugi was angry, or demanding, or stern, there had always been a subtle kindness in his tone that this man lacked.

The man who was both Yuugi and not raised his right arm, pointing at the dark Yuugi with a staff or a wand of some kind, a thin golden thing that clattered as it moved. From the staff's point hung several solid strands of bead-encrusted gold that jarred together, clicking like dice in cupped hands. "You have trespassed against my heart," Yuugi-not-Yuugi stated, the dark makeup around his eyes intensifying the harshness of his stare, "and you have attacked my guardians."

There was no recognition in those eyes, and the dark Yuugi nearly dropped the Puzzle in his shock.

He was too late.

"_Aibou_," he managed to stutter out, but the endearment was too inaudible to reach Yuugi's ears, whose grip merely tightened on the flail, the beads clattering in response.

The dark Yuugi's legs gave way beneath him, and he stumbled, falling to his already injured knees. The grit of the stone scratched into his wounds deeper, but the dark Yuugi did not hiss at the pain.

At this gesture of submission, the Yuugi-not-Yuugi lowered his arm, but his gaze did not turn from the darker Yuugi's own.

"You shall leave this place," said Yuugi, his voice less threatening but no kinder. "You shall never attempt to return here, you shall dismantle the God Pyramid, and you shall _heed_ my words this time."

The dark Yuugi barely felt the hands that grabbed his arms, or how they hauled him to his feet, but when he started moving backwards, moving _away_ from Yuugi, his shock finally broke and with a snarl he tore himself out of those cold, inhuman hands.

"No!" he shouted, striding forward, his fists clenched. "I will not leave you imprisoned here, I refuse!"

Yuugi, the inherently _wrong_ Yuugi, had a look of amused confusion tugging at his features, and for a moment he looked like the Yuugi the dark Yuugi remembered. "Imprisoned?" he asked with a quirk of the lips and an implied laugh, "Foolish boy, this is my burial chamber. I am to rest here, binding the darkness. I bound myself here, sacrificing my life among mortal men and my active rule of that throne to be here." Yuugi shook his head, still smiling. "How is this imprisonment?"

The dark Yuugi gestured wildly, swinging the Puzzle wide. "You're wrong!"

Yuugi gave a short, condescending laugh. "I am Pharaoh, and am rarely wrong."

The dark Yuugi staggered back a step. Yuugi had told him that he, the darker Yuugi, had been a Pharaoh, and had been locked into the Millennium Puzzle for the aforementioned millennia. Could it be that Yuugi had somehow come to think that _he_ was the Nameless Pharaoh? The dark Yuugi grit his teeth.

"You're wrong!" he repeated, more confident now. The man before him was both Yuugi and not Yuugi all at once, and the dark Yuugi had to believe in the depths of his heart that his _aibou_ was not truly gone; it was just a matter of finding him, of drawing him back out. "I am Pharaoh!"

At this proclamation, the Pharaoh Yuugi-not-Yuugi scowled, his brow furrowing under the weight of the golden crown. "What mockery is this? I grow weary of you."

Feeling he had nothing to lose, the dark Yuugi held aloft the Millennium Puzzle prominently in Yuugi-not-Yuugi's direction. "I carry the Right of the Pharaoh," he exclaimed, staring beseechingly into Yuugi's startled eyes, "while you merely wear an elaborate costume. Please. This isn't you."

At that, Yuugi exhaled sharply through his nostrils, his body tensing. "Will you force me to evict you myself, then?" The statues had backed away from them, surrounding the two Yuugis in a loose ring; seeing no other way, the dark Yuugi nodded.

"I will not leave without you, _aibou._"

Although the dark Yuugi had not moved, Yuugi-not-Yuugi jerked backwards as if struck.

"_Ai-aibou?_" he echoed, his voice softer and his gaze unfocused. "Was that—?" his voice trailed off, and with clenched eyes and a forcible shake of his head he murmured something, too soft for the dark Yuugi to hear. When he opened his eyes again, that softness, that confusion the darker Yuugi recognized had vanished once more. But it _had_ been there: his Yuugi was still there, somewhere, and the dark Yuugi would pull him out again, he must!

The dark Yuugi made to call forth a Dark Game, but when he opened his mouth to speak a stinging pain erupted from his already injured cheek. Shocked, and hurt more by the fact he had been physically attacked than by the attack itself, the darker Yuugi barely managed to duck in time when Yuugi-not-Yuugi swung the flail against him again, the streaming beads and gold whipping through the air with a whistle. The Pharaoh Yuugi swung again, and again the dark Yuugi dodged, but he was surprised when a weapon in Yuugi's left hand struck him instead. A hooked staff the dark Yuugi had not noticed before, the blue and gold of it almost camouflaged against Yuugi's attire.

His Yuugi would _never_ have attacked the dark Yuugi in any circumstance – to do so without even a warning, and at such an obscene advantage! This extra identity, this extra personality was completely corrupting who Yuugi was! If the dark Yuugi thought too much on this, he might have found the situation slightly ironic, or possibly might have accused himself of hypocrisy. Instead, he continued dodging the Pharaoh's attacks, glad for both the fact that Yuugi-not-Yuugi was incredibly _bad_ at physical combat, and that the weapons themselves were rather weak and not designed to be weapons in the first place.

This inexperience – it was how Yuugi would fight, if he had to do so, the dark Yuugi thought; he still needed to find a way to end this rather pathetic battle. Yuugi swung the cane to strike the darker Yuugi across the temple, but with a sudden burst of inspiration, the dark Yuugi move to block the blow with his arm, jamming the limb itself into the hook of the weapon. Jerking back sharply, he was able to pull the crook from Yuugi's weaker hand; quickly he took the weapon into his own right hand, the Puzzle still held tightly in his left. He did not try talking Yuugi down from his attack, his focus more now on dodging the blows as they came. He was still weak and only becoming more so, and seeing this stranger wearing Yuugi's face, stifling the real Yuugi, did nothing to ease his fatigue. More and more of the Pharaoh's blows were landing; the dark Yuugi could feel the blood running down his cheek from where the flail had repeatedly slashed his face, the one that hadn't already been torn open by Sasori's attack hours-minutes-years before.

Too dizzy to duck, the dark Yuugi brought up the cane to catch the beaded whip-like attachments of the flail, and with a twist had their two weapons locked together, and he forced their hands down to struggle nearer to their waists. The Pharaoh glowered, trying to free his weapon.

"_Aibou_, stop," the dark Yuugi murmured, but Yuugi's expression did not soften, even as he released the flail to hang loose in its entanglement with the crook. The dark Yuugi bowed his head. "I do not want to fight you," he whispered, but Yuugi's eyes were still the flinted gaze of a furious stranger.

"Then you should have left while you had the chance," Yuugi replied, and the darker Yuugi almost missed the sound. He had no choice now, and he swiftly punched Yuugi in the sternum with the flat of his palm, knocking the Pharaoh off-balance.

Still, the dark Yuugi's blood stained the edge of the dagger in the Pharaoh's hand. The cut had been shallow, but fear seized the darker Yuugi's heart.

"You would go so far as to kill me?" he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. Yuugi's answer was swift, but his hand and his voice were both shaking.

"If I must," he said, and the dark Yuugi saw those eyes soften again as the real Yuugi surfaced again. "I don't have a choice! You cannot force me to leave my duty!"

The real Yuugi seemed to submerge once more under that overpowering personality of Pharaoh, and without hesitation the dark Yuugi knocked the dagger out of the Pharaoh's hand using the Millennium Puzzle. Releasing the Puzzle to clatter against the floor, the dark Yuugi seized Yuugi-not-Yuugi's wrists.

"You promised me!" he shouted, furious at the situation and at how weak his own voice sounded, "you promised me 'always' not more than a day ago! Are your oaths so fragile they cannot face the sunlight twice?"

There was more of the true Yuugi cracking through, but still he struggled against the leverage the darker Yuugi held upon him, pushing him backwards, towards the sarcophagus.

"I… recall… from a dream?" murmured the Pharaoh, his resistance only half-hearted, his gaze down-turned and bewildered. "Or from a story, but not… not from my life." His eyes turned fierce under their cloying makeup, and he turned his glare to the darker Yuugi. "I sealed myself here, and my name from mortal memory. This is my place!"

The dark Yuugi stopped trying to specifically pinpoint when the Pharaoh's confused expression meant that Yuugi was surfacing or not; the dark Yuugi's words were confusing the both of him, and perhaps if he pushed hard enough, he could finally shatter this stifling costume.

"But you have a name," he murmured softly, though not for a moment relaxing his grip on Yuugi's wrists, "it is I who is nameless."

"You have a name," replied Yuugi, swift and suddenly sure once more, "it's… yes. I know your name. It's—"

Horrified, the dark Yuugi shook his head. "No!" he shouted, trembling.

He did not know what name Yuugi would say – would it be a false name? His true, hidden name? _Their_ name? They could share the name _Yuugi_, but if Yuugi were to renounce it and leave it solely to the dark Yuugi, would he be sealed, unconscious atop the dark sarcophagus while Yuugi slept within? He could not take that chance.

"Please, please, we must go!" he pleaded, tugging ineffectually at Yuugi's wrists.

"How many times must I repeat it?" growled the Pharaoh, thrashing. "This is my duty, and I shall not leave this place!"

"And I shall not leave _you!_" the dark Yuugi shouted, keeping his grip tight even as he bowed his head. "I will not leave if it means leaving you. I will not live your life while you sleep here for no purpose. Either we will both go, or both stay. _Aibou_…"

The voice that replied was confused, and soft, but still unquestioningly Yuugi's. "I… but… I am Pharaoh…"

It was so quiet and unsure a statement, the darker Yuugi could not help the tiny smile that tugged at his lips. He leaned forward to press his forehead to Yuugi's, but the contact was impeded by the thick crown on Yuugi's brow.

"We were Pharaoh," the dark Yuugi conceded. After all, he was the other Yuugi: would that not make Yuugi the other Pharaoh? They were balanced fragments of heart – could they truly have come from different hearts and yet still balance so perfectly? "But we haven't been Pharaoh for a long time. You're—"

But what he was, the dark Yuugi could not say for the sudden groan of pain that emerged instead of words. The statues, which had been content to watch the two of them bludgeon one another with the King's tools in what could have been a rather pathetic death match, had apparently decided that they didn't want the dark Yuugi talking to Yuugi anymore. Another powerful blow knocked into the dark Yuugi, forcing him to his knees, but his hands did not release the Pharaoh Yuugi's wrists.

"Stop it, you're hurting him!" shouted Yuugi, and even through the bleeding of his split lip the dark Yuugi smiled at that – but then the statues were ripping his hands from Yuugi, forcing him back and away. When he looked up, he had already been dragged several feet, and seven statues were surrounding the Pharaoh Yuugi, guiding him back into the box – though he was heartened that Yuugi struggled, and did not go easily. But if there were seven around Yuugi, how were there seven around the darker Yuugi? It made no sense.

Even as he struggled though, the dark Yuugi could see his _aibou_ receding, the entire continence of the Pharaoh was slackening in fatigue, the statues murmuring soft platitudes.

"No, please," the dark Yuugi cried, struggling against the ashen fingers digging into the raw cuts on his wrists, stinging tears of pain in his eyes, "take me instead! Please, please, let him go! _YUUGI!_"

And everything stopped.

The statues dragging the dark Yuugi away, the ones forcing Yuugi into the sarcophagus, even Yuugi himself – every one of them froze as the word hung heavy in the air. Just as naming the dark Yuugi had bound him to this room, and the removing of that name released him, so was the opposite true for the Yuugi dressed as Pharaoh.

There was an expression of consternation upon Yuugi's painted face that lasted for several seconds. Still, no one moved, but the dark Yuugi could feel the statues' grip on him tighten. The hold on Yuugi must have been loosened by contrast, for his was the first movement: a gut-wrenching cry of sheer and utter _pain_ as he fell to his knees in the sarcophagus, his hands clutching to his temples and laying upon the crown encircling him there.

At the sound, the dark Yuugi's entire body clenched, and with renewed fervor he struggled for freedom. As Yuugi shook and trembled, his mouth moving but no sound emerging, his eyes wide in terror, the statues that had been holding him instead surged upon the dark Yuugi, and then there were fourteen around him, or a hundred, he couldn't tell, and he could no longer see Yuugi between the legs of his captors.

"Please," he whispered, spitting blood on the word, "let him go. Seal me instead. Please."

But for his effort, all he received was another blow to his already bleeding face.

"Your heart is useless to us," one of the statues spat, but the dark Yuugi couldn't tell which for the dizziness. How badly was he hurt now? The blows Sasori had inflicted upon their physical body had followed him here, then fighting Yuugi after the long journey through the maze, and all this blood, he didn't know how much more he could endure.

Another blow, and more blood ran from his face.

"For three thousand years we've waited for your heart to grow strong enough to bear us," said another statue, or the same one, it didn't matter. Hard blows continued to rain upon him, to his legs, and his sides, and his ribs – everywhere, everything, and he couldn't even get to his hands and knees before he was knocked down again. It felt like his tears of pain, too, were composed of blood, but that couldn't be true.

Still, the statues spoke, and barely could the dark Yuugi hear them over the pounding in his ears.

"But you remained shriveled and worthless!" He couldn't even cry out at the pain anymore, he couldn't even _think!_ "But his heart, willingly he traded it for yours – his can grow, will grow, and we shall fill it with our souls and seal ourselves inside—"

The pain was an overpowering, but distant thing; shouldn't he have passed out by now? Could he not in this realm? The dark Yuugi groaned, dribbling blood onto the unyielding ground; would the pain simply continue until he died?

Was he dying?

The statues continued speaking, now unified in two voices instead of one: the one half proclaimed that they would weigh the heart down and destroy it, and the rest proclaimed that the Pharaoh's heart would be so light and open it would be accepted without question and merge with that of the God Re, thereby making these parasites immortal in that God's heart. But what did such things matter to the dark Yuugi?

If they were going to kill him, he thought with his eyes clenched shut and his body-not-body shaking, then they should just get it over with. Again, again, _always_ he had failed his one most precious _aibou_, and if he could do nothing for Yuugi, what purpose had he? It didn't matter if he died, he didn't even care anymore, but _Yuugi_…

The dark Yuugi was shaking, his muscles weak and quivering as he pushed himself to his hands and knees, prostrate before his attackers who, oddly, were no longer attacking.

It was then that the dark Yuugi realized that it was not he who was shaking: the statues were stumbling, falling over in the sudden and terrible quake, and the dark Yuugi barely acknowledged the sudden and terrible cracks that had started forming in the walls and upon the unsteady ground. He made to stand, but his body was wracked with coughs at the attempt, and his stomach heaved – but all that came out was more blood, and bile.

He was so weak, he was sure he must be dying; he thought this dimly as he crawled slowly, away from the displaced statues. He could feel nothing save pain, and his own weak determination; he really hoped he was crawling in the right direction, as he couldn't actually see clearly enough to tell.

There was a hiccup, and a quiet wail, and the dark Yuugi pressed his hands firmly against the side of the sarcophagus, arduously palming the sides of it to walk himself up to nearly sitting. His shaking and bloodied hand fell upon one bedecked in rings, warm and familiar to the touch, and the dark Yuugi shuddered in relief when he felt the hand twitch in reaction.

"_Aibou_…" he whispered, pressing his forehead against the sarcophagus, tightening his grip on the other's hand. "_Aibou_, _aibou_, I'm so sorry."

He felt the hand under his own tighten against the rim of the coffin, felt the angle of the arm shift upwards, and the dark Yuugi turned his gaze up, barely avoiding breaking his nose on the sarcophagus in another severe shake of the room.

Yuugi – his Yuugi, his, his, _his_ Yuugi – was similarly holding onto the edge of the coffin, and his face barely cleared the rim. His eyes seemed unfocused, and his frown was small, but the dark Yuugi nearly laughed with relief.

"You're hurt," Yuugi murmured softly, his other hand coming up to gently wipe the blood on the dark Yuugi's face, but only managing to smear it more across his pale skin.

"You're you," the dark Yuugi whispered back, and when he bent his head to cough he sprayed a few drops of blood and bile onto his already bloodied arm. The hand beneath his own pulled away softly, and when the dark Yuugi looked up, Yuugi was shakily unfastening the clasp of his cloak. The dark Yuugi closed his eyes while Yuugi softly pressed the red fabric against the cuts on his face, though he winced at the sting; he did not resist when he felt Yuugi drape the fabric softly over his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, other me," whispered Yuugi, pressing his lips against the darker Yuugi's brow, "it's all my fault – I hurt you, I've hurt you so much—"

The room had ceased its shaking, and for that the other Yuugi was grateful; he clasped his hands onto Yuugi's bare shoulders, and did not need to use his grip to steady his balance.

"I'd do anything for you," he whispered back, his tongue heavy and his words probably slurred, "I'd never leave you to suffer, I promised—"

"Shh," whispered Yuugi, fiddling with the clasp of the cloak until the dark Yuugi felt the familiar metal's weight upon him. When had Yuugi retrieved the Puzzle? He didn't know, and didn't care, but merely let Yuugi use the cape's fastenings as an impromptu lanyard for the Millennium Puzzle. The gold was warm against his chest.

"I promised too," Yuugi continued, his hands cupping the other Yuugi's jaw, his eyes dark, and sad. "I promised you so many things, but I—"

Yuugi's attention was swiftly diverted elsewhere, but the dark Yuugi couldn't work up the energy to follow that gaze, letting his eyes slide closed and his hands tighten on Yuugi's shoulders.

"Other me," said Yuugi with a hard metal in his voice that was not unkind, "on the ground, to your left. Hand me the crook."

The dark Yuugi found the item easily, and only gave a soft query of "_Aibou_?" before Yuugi plucked the cane from his hand.

"They're symbols of the Pharaoh's dominion," said Yuugi absently, his gaze still fixed elsewhere and turning increasingly dark, "over the land of Egypt and its people. The Pharaoh is God, and God is absolute."

Yuugi stood then, stepping easily over the edge of the sarcophagus, the crook held so tightly in his right hand that his knuckles had turned bone white.

When he turned, the dark Yuugi saw the threat: the statues had obviously recovered from the room's trembling, and were approaching the sarcophagus in menacing strides. The leader of the group, a statue made of ash and cauterized flesh and with the hinting of the appearance of a young man, carried Yuugi's discarded dagger. The statue raised his arm, knife poised for the throw, and the dark Yuugi struggled to his feet.

"My name is Mutou Yuugi," whispered Yuugi, shaking where he stood from what could only be suppressed fury. The dark Yuugi sagged backward, resting his weight at the hip against the side of the sarcophagus, and his hands held tightly to its lip to prevent himself from tumbling over again. He could only see Yuugi's face in profile, but the fire, the anger, the sheer determination etched into that painted face was the most frightening thing the dark Yuugi had ever seen.

"I am Pharaoh!" he shouted this time, raising the crook high above his head, almost mimicking the statue's movement; it was then that the dark Yuugi saw the tears on Yuugi's face. The room began trembling quietly beneath their feet.

"And you _shall not harm him!_" Yuugi screamed, swinging the crook down in a powerful movement, and the dark Yuugi was stunned to see that the statues were being forced backwards, some toppling over, and he was suddenly reminded of that morning on the train, when he had accidentally shattered Kaiba's chess set.

The King of Games has dominion over all games; in this realm at least, the same must have been true of the Pharaoh and his subjects.

The statues were being pushed further and further away, and Yuugi's whole body was shaking far too much for it to have been a result of the subtle trembling of the ground beneath them. The other Yuugi propelled himself forward, grabbing a hold of Yuugi's bare shoulders, but even then Yuugi's body could not stop trembling, and his sweat was streaking through his makeup.

"I… I can't h-hold this much l-longer," Yuugi whispered, his grip on the crook so tight that the other Yuugi could see his blood veins in stark relief against the rest of his skin. The other Yuugi moved to place his hand atop Yuugi's, but Yuugi jerked the hand and the crook out of the way. "N-no. No, this is m-my part,"

"We're supposed to work together," the other Yuugi murmured, his hand returning to Yuugi's arm to steady him there.

"Y-you ma-made a pr-promise to m-me," Yuugi said, the shaking in his voice and his body only getting worse; the other Yuugi tried to hold him still, but his own balance was off-kilter from his injuries, and the shaking of the room seemed to be getting progressively more powerful.

"_Aibou_, what are you doing, what's happening—"

"Y-you pr-pr-promised," Yuugi whispered, clenching his eyes shut as his tremors intensified; the gold of the crook was white in heat, and the other Yuugi very much hoped he was simply imagining the steam coming off the item and from Yuugi's hands. "The D-Dark Games… not wi-without m-my—"

"No more Dark Games without your permission, _aibou_," he whispered in reply, wrapping his arms more firmly around Yuugi's body, uncaring for the fact that he was smearing his own blood onto Yuugi's bare flesh.

A second of pause, and Yuugi's gaze turned to meet the other Yuugi's; his dark eyes were unfocused and wet with tears, and the severe black lines around his eyes were smeared and ran down his cheeks.

"I give you my permission now."

The crook shattered, and Yuugi's body began to spasm with wracking coughs, sagging easily into the other Yuugi's arms. Unable to keep them balanced, the other Yuugi carefully lowered them both to the ground, and turned Yuugi in his arms to look at his face.

With each shaking cough from Yuugi's body, thick, red blood spilled from his lips, and the dark Yuugi's heart seized in his chest.

He had seen spasms like this before.

"_Aibou? Aibou!_" he cried, his hands tight on Yuugi's shoulders, his own body shaking. No, no, it couldn't—

"I-I'm okay," Yuugi whispered, blood dribbling from his mouth, and the other Yuugi was shaking, shaking worse than Yuugi had, his mouth jerking, his eyes watering.

In his mind's eye, another face was superimposing itself upon Yuugi's, and the other Yuugi could not stop the jerking sobs wracking his body. Sometimes, Yuugi's eyes were a deep, dark purple, the most familiar eyes the other Yuugi had ever known; sometimes, they were brown.

_"Yuugi? You're alive? … sonuvabitch, I thought she got you too. … I'd'a fought more, if… khhk-khh-hck, listen to you! I knew you could sound like a real man if you tried! … Yuugi, Yuugi, don't, ackhh-khh-khh… sorry. I got you into this. hekkkhhhh-hkk-ghauhgggg, stop crying. I'm okay. I'm okay." _

"I'm – khh, khh, hughg – I'm okay."

Yuugi turned his face to the side and coughed more, the motions slight but spitting out small amounts of blood with each jerk of his body. The dark Yuugi's hands were shaking as he leaned down to embrace his other self, and he felt Yuugi's hand, cut and bloody from the exploded crook, slide under the cape and the shirt to press against the flesh of his back.

He kissed Yuugi's upturned cheek, uncaring for the dark makeup that would stain his lips, and when he pulled away Yuugi gazed up at him, smiling. Yuugi gave another shallow cough, and then with an agonizing slowness, he closed his eyes and turned his head away.

A heartbeat passed in darkness. Two. A dozen. Yuugi's grip in the other Yuugi's back slackened, and slipped down, as though he had merely fallen asleep. The dark Yuugi did not care that he was crying, and though he pressed his face close to Yuugi's, and spoke broken endearments into his ear, Yuugi did not stir.

The other Yuugi's grip on Yuugi's form tightened convulsively, and everything was shaking, his body, Yuugi's, the room around him. The dark Yuugi didn't care, even as he heard deafening cracks echo through the chamber, or the menacing sound of parts of the ceiling crumbling and crashing against the stone floor below, did not care that the room itself was breaking around him.

All the dark Yuugi could feel was Yuugi in his arms, the way his own body shook with grief, with despair, with sorrow and failure and so much remorse, and the pain of his own heart splintering and fracturing within his chest.

One large segment of the oppressive stone ceiling crumbled and shattered mere feet from the other Yuugi's unprotected form, and after a moment of pause, he carefully scooped Yuugi into his weak arms. Staggering from his own weakness and the turmoil of the environment, the other Yuugi carried Yuugi's limp body to the only safe place in the room: the sarcophagus.

The room had not yet ceased shaking, and large sections of the ceiling were falling more rapidly, so with gentle and unexpectedly slow and sturdy movements, the other Yuugi carefully lay Yuugi down into the sarcophagus once more. He had not yet stopped crying, and he doubted he ever would, using the corner of the red cape to shakily wipe the blood from Yuugi's mouth.

The other Yuugi staggered forward, a strangled cry catching in his throat, his body catching on the edge of the sarcophagus. His shakes turned into hiccups, and no matter how many times he tried, he couldn't even say the words, couldn't even think straight, couldn't _think_, couldn't even _breathe!_ He sank to his ripped and battered knees, pressing his face against the exterior side of the smooth coffin, and just remembering what the object was made his body jerk in several dry heaves. His hands, trembling and weak and useless, clutched at the box, and he wished fervently that the falling sky would crush him, crush him into nothing, because he deserved nothing more than utter annihilation for his complete failure.

He did not know how long he trembled there – what matter had time, when all was already lost? – but it was too short a time before his tears ran dry, and his physical shaking subsided, even if the room continued to quiver. His hands clenched on the sarcophagus, and with bitter thoughts he pulled himself to his feet, not feeling the sting of the stone and debris cutting into his already mutilated feet.

Within the sarcophagus, next to Yuugi (who still, even now, merely looked asleep), lay a small mound of chain that he had not noticed before. He did not know why he bothered to lift it from Yuugi's sarcophagus, feeling his body go numb with grief, but when the chain passed out of the realm of the box, each link in the chain broke apart from one another, and the dark Yuugi did not feel especially shocked with each link turned into a small die. The dark Yuugi rolled the dice in his fingers, feeling their regular sides and balanced weight, and though they were made of bone he did not find this disturbing.

Gazing at the dice, a very slow smile crept across his face; he clenched the dice tightly in his hand and leaned his upper body over the coffin once more.

"Thank you, _aibou_," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Yuugi's still-warm lips. "I will see you soon."

Moving to the other side of the sarcophagus, the other Yuugi pressed his hip against the edge of the lid, and abusing his minor reserves of strength he began pushing the lid back to cover the resting place of the Pharaoh. The room was still shaking and crumbling around him, and though Yuugi was—, he would not allow further harm to come to him.

If the dark Yuugi thought about it, he would realize this was yet another useless action; perhaps it is good that he did not think about it.

Even though the crook had shattered, and no Pharaoh wielded its power, those malicious statues, those trapped and angry souls, were still bound in place against the far walls of the tomb. Shuffling slowly, nearly tripping several times over the debris in the room, the dark Yuugi pressed into the hand of each statue one carved die, his tragic little smile still etched on his face.

At last, only one die remained, and the dark Yuugi stared at each flat side of it, cycling through the numbers. It was a standard d6, the most popular of all dice, where the parallel sides would add up to seven.

The dark Yuugi looked up, and his numb grief shattered momentarily for the unstoppable surging of rage within him. These were the people who had locked him away from Yuugi for days upon days and left him no memory of the absence; these were the people that had taken Yuugi from him, corrupted his heart and eventually shattering their most precious hearts. The chamber around them gave a terrible lurch and began quaking once more, the sound of its destruction overpowering, and the dark Yuugi's grin was feral.

"Dark Game!" the other Yuugi roared over the trembling and the crumbling of his heart-heart's room. "Dice roll!"

Holding aloft the single die remaining to him, the dark Yuugi glared at each of the fourteen half-soul statues surrounding him. Each statue mimicked his movement, all of them raising their die-bearing arms along with his; he could see the utter hatred in their glares, at how much they detested this control over them, and he laughed.

"You are all trespassers within my heart, and you have _destroyed it!_" he shouted, moving forward several steps to avoid being crushed beneath the falling debris. "And we all shall be crushed unless you play my game, and your dark and heavy hearts shall be annihilated before even glimpsing the two gates!"

The dark Yuugi rolled the die between his fingers, a smile tugging at his lips. It was not the victorious smirk he was used to wearing when he played the dark games, assured of victory. It was a small, soft smile that would have felt more at home on Yuugi's face. It was an accepting smile.

"We will each roll our die," he said, bowing his head and readjusting his stance to keep from toppling over, "anyone whose top number is exactly half of their bottom number wins. Losers will die. Cheaters will die."

"And winners?" shouted one statue, the one that had threatened he and Yuugi both with the king's dagger.

The dark Yuugi suppressed an equally dark chuckle. "Winners can have whatever they want," he said, not bothering to look up.

"GAME START!"

With all the strength he could muster, the other Yuugi tossed his die straight into the air. He watched his fate tumble upwards, dimly hearing the screams of the trespassers: those played fairly realizing their mistake, and those that tried to cheat realized that they couldn't before they crumbled into nothing. He did not need to watch; he knew they were all assured destruction, assured loss.

After all, he thought with a small hint of regret, he had devised an impossible game. They were all guaranteed failure.

The bottom of one was six, two matched five, and three matched four: there _was_ no perfect half.

He watched each side of his die catch the light as it rotated, and he thought, _how odd that the dice that had bound me here would set me free,_ and he thought, _I wonder if I will meet aibou at the gates? _

But as the room continued shaking around him as the die arced into its decent, he thought, _I wish that I would not._ Closing his eyes, he thought, _I wish that my death could somehow save him. Even if I won, I would choose death, if it meant his happiness. _

And, as he heard the clatter of his landing die, the final toss, he thought, _Even though I love him, I would not wish to be with him, if he could be happy. If I can give my life for him, I will. _

As it clattered and bounced across the floor, a remnant of a former name thought, _I'm sorry. _

Everything within the darker Yuugi's heart's room came to a gentle halt; the ceiling no longer cracked, the ground no longer shook, and the die had ceased its roll.

He thought, _I'm so—_

_Thump! _

The dark Yuugi scowled. Why would something go—

_Thump! _

—at the two gates? He hadn't cheated, so he should be forced to trial, to have his heart weighed. What would go—

_Thump! _

The dark Yuugi's eyes opened hesitatingly, and he was bewildered. He was still within his heart's room, empty now of those ancient trespassers. Why had he not gone with them?

_THUMP! _

He turned, slowly, to the source of the noise, not daring to hope, but unable to smother the—

_**THUMP! **_

Uncaring for the reasons, the dark Yuugi lunged and stumbled for the Pharaoh's sarcophagus, shoving at the lid with weak arms that could barely budge the lid more than a couple centimeters. He sagged to his knees, his fingers scraping between the lid and the edge through the pathetic gap he had made, scarcely an inch.

It was enough.

Warm, but equally weak fingers brushed against his own.

"_A-a-a-aibou?_"

He couldn't even keep his eyes open – he had never felt more exhausted in memory, and even though the ground was rough and uneven against his knees (if this were the real world, he thought with a laugh, he'd probably get an infection from how much dirt was clogging into his open wounds), and his body ached from the position, he would not have moved even if he wasn't hoping for something miraculous.

But since he was, the silence was eternal and nearly unbearable.

Unbearable, until he heard a very quiet, "always."

The other Yuugi gave a quiet, choking laugh that would have turned into sobs if he'd had the strength for it. He interlaced his fingers with the ringed ones still within the sarcophagus. "It is really you?" he whispered, pressing his forehead against the side of the box.

There was a groan, and the lid shifted open a little more. "Mostly," said Yuugi, his voice louder and clearer now, "but I'm still… I still know that I'm the Pharaoh. I remember that more than I remember being Yuugi."

The other Yuugi frowned, even though his heartbeat was erratic and giddy. "We won't have to fight again, will we?"

Another groan of the stone on stone. "No, definitely not. Are they gone?"

The other Yuugi nodded, scraping his forehead on the box, before remembering that Yuugi (his Yuugi! Who was alive! And not dead! he choked down a sob at the realization) could not see the gesture. "Yes. They should be. But…"

Another shove of the lid. "But what?"

"But… why am I still here? The game is over…"

There was a final shove, and the other Yuugi looked up blearily at _his_ Yuugi, still dressed in the Pharaoh's ornaments but still unmistakably _his aibou_. Yuugi nearly tumbled out of the sarcophagus, but since most of his toppling was onto the other Yuugi, he could not hope to complain. The other Yuugi shivered in the sudden press of heat against his bare chest, and without thought he wrapped his arms tightly around Yuugi, wrapping both of them within his bloody dress-shirt and Yuugi's bestowed cloak.

"Why wouldn't you be here?" asked Yuugi, encircling his arms around the other's chest beneath all the clothing, the heat of Yuugi's skin and the metal on his arms making the other Yuugi's breath hitch dangerously.

The other Yuugi pulled his partner against him tighter, pressing his forehead against Yuugi's shoulder. "It was an impossible game. I made _sure_ that it was an impossible game! I should be dead!"

"Well, you're not," said Yuugi, sternly, his nails digging into the other Yuugi's back. "And neither am I, at that." There was a pause, and Yuugi added, softer, "is that… is that why you tried making the game impossible? Did you think I was—?"

The other Yuugi nodded against Yuugi's shoulder, his body shaking. "You were coughing blood," he said, his voice shaking and Yuugi's shoulder becoming increasingly wet, "you were babbling and coughing blood and then everything _broke_ and you were _gone_ and it was J-J-J-Joun-n-nouchi all over again and—"

Yuugi's hold on the other's body tightened, his ringed hands rubbing comforting circles into the other's back. "Shh. It's okay now, other me. I'm all right. You're here, I'm here. We're together, and we're probably not dead. It's over."

They spent several minutes, or hours, or years curled there, the other Yuugi babbling apologies and endearments, his words only broken by the reverent kisses he pressed into Yuugi's warm, living body; Yuugi echoed most of these, his sorrow calmer but no less true. After a while, their words faded away, and they sat together in silence for a long while after that.

Slowly, Yuugi pulled his arms away from the other Yuugi, not pulling out of the embrace, and tentatively pressed his fingers against the golden crown encircling his forehead. The other Yuugi watched as, with protracted movements, Yuugi carefully pushed the crown up, up, off his forehead and past his spiked, oddly sweet-smelling hair. When at last the crown cleared his body, Yuugi's body shuddered, and his body lurched as if tripping in a dream. Bringing his arms back down, holding the crown now near to his chest, Yuugi choked out a shaking laugh.

"It's gone," he whispered, smiling, pressing his bare forehead against the other's, grinning. "It's gone, it's gone—"

"What's gone, _aibou_?" the other Yuugi whispered, combing his fingers through Yuugi's blond fringe softly.

"The Pharaoh. His memories. They're—they're not in my head any more. I… I remember that I _had_ them, once, but the memories themselves are… I'm just me, again."

The other Yuugi leaned forward and kissed Yuugi's lips softly. "I'm glad. I'm so glad. _Aibou_…"

Yuugi closed his eyes, and pushed the crown against the other Yuugi's chest. Startled, the other Yuugi cupped his hands over the crown, and Yuugi let go; with marked confusion, he looked up.

"You said you couldn't remember anything from before I solved the Puzzle," Yuugi whispered, lowering his gaze, "so these… they must have been your memories. Your name. They're all there."

The dark Yuugi stared down at the circle of metal in his hands, touching briefly the golden serpent and the emblazoned eye like that on their Millennium Puzzle. Biting his lip, the dark Yuugi lifted the crown.

He threw it across the room like a Frisbee, and the gold clattered and skittered across the dust-covered floor, out of sight.

"Other—"

"You forgot who I was," said the other Yuugi sternly, glaring into the dark and damaged room near to where he threw the crown; "You had lost all recollection of me until… until I gave you your own name back. I c-can't, I w-won't risk the same thing happening to me." Shaking, the other Yuugi turned his gaze back to Yuugi's dark eyes, and he shook his head. "I'd… I'd much rather be the other you. If… if you'll still have me?"

Yuugi wiped a hand over his mouth and nose, sniffling, and he laughed. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't _let_ you leave at this point!"

Yuugi kissed him.

And the other Yuugi was suddenly very, very glad he had won an impossible game.

Pulling away slowly, Yuugi struggled to get to his feet. "Let's get out of here. We're going to develop asthma or something if we stay here in all this dust."

Yuugi tried pulling his other self to his feet, but they were both so fatigued that they stumbled and crashed into the side of the sarcophagus, and both were giddy with laughter. Yuugi pressed another kiss to the other Yuugi's face.

"At this point," Yuugi said with a quiet laugh, "I kinda want to offer you 'yay, you're my hero!' sex, but—"

The other Yuugi looked slightly horrified. "Now?! _Aibou_, we can't even stand up straight."

Yuugi nodded, looping his arm across the other's shoulders. "I know. Maybe later."

The other Yuugi nearly choked at that, but he too looped an arm over Yuugi's shoulders, and they slowly began walking forward. Their steps were hesitant, and uneven, trying to find a rhythm that would prevent them both from falling. Their footprints trailed in the dust and debris, and once outside the dark Yuugi's heart's room they traveled through a calm and abiding Puzzle. Finally, after ages of fatigued traveling, they crossed through the doorway to Yuugi's heart's room, the door closing behind them.

And as that door clicked shut, one lone die in the center of the Pyramid of God toppled from its precarious balance on one tip, and disintegrated into ash.

* * *

**_The dead king ascends and appears_  
_forever and forever._**


End file.
